


The Geography of Ink

by Bird_Blast



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Soulmates, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bird_Blast/pseuds/Bird_Blast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where any scars or ink you have carved into your skin also show up on your soulmate. Nico travels the globe collecting tattoos from everywhere and everyone important to him while Will is stuck in New York City, trying to piece together the life story of someone he’s never met through the stories written into his skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He swears it hasn’t been more than ten minutes since he’d stumbled into his room, face planted onto his bed, and lost himself to sleep. But sure enough, the alarm that’s blaring off to his right proudly displays in painfully bright red LED the fact that it’s five thirty in the morning. He makes it through most of the swear words he knows by the time he finally finds the snooze button and crawls back under the sheets.

It’s another twenty minutes before he even considers leaving his bed.

He’s already saved himself two minutes of finding something to change into on account of having fallen asleep in his street clothes. Another five minutes for a snack, one minute to gather all of his belongings and stuff them into his suitcase, thirty seconds to brush his teeth, and he’s out the door of his hotel room without a second glance back. He’s only been in Hong Kong for four months, but he knows the streets around his hotel like the back of his hand. He spares a glance at his phone, but immediately regrets it when he notices he only has a little over an hour until his flight and a little under an hour of travelling time to make it there. With a grunt he shoves it back into his pocket and takes off towards the metro station.

He’s still heaving from his non-stop sprint through the ridiculously extensive hallways and channels of the Hong Kong airport by the time he finally takes his seat on the plane. He’s barely gotten his bag under his seat when the pilot calls for the flight attendants to buckle down for takeoff. The next few minutes are an uncomfortable combination of chugging water to try and cool himself down, tugging at his ears as they pop, and subtly avoiding the glares he’s getting from the middle-aged Chinese man in the seat beside him.

It’s ten minutes into the flight that he’s finally settled down enough to take notice of the dull pain that sweeps up his back whenever it rubs up against the rough texture of the seat.

He’s about to go and scratch at it, but stops short he remembers last night. _Shit_. What did the guy say again, six hours? The screen at the front of the plane tells him that it’s just past seven. When did they even finish last night? It was definitely past one o’clock. He mulls over the times in his head for another minute before deciding that an hour or two won’t make a difference. As if he could wait that long anyway.

“Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.” He mumbles in Chinese to the man beside him, who offers him a disdainful glance as he gets up out of his seat to let him through. What is this guy’s problem?

He works his way up the aisle towards the bathrooms and shuts the door behind him before sliding in the lock. He leans back into the door with his palms pressed flat against it and takes a moment to compose himself before taking a deep breath and turning towards the mirror in the stall.

When he sees himself in the mirror he lets out a snort at his condition. He has dark circles under his eyes from the four and something hours of sleep he got last night, his clothes are crumpled as all hell from him having slept in them and now, in the sterile air of the airplane washroom, he can tell that he smells of sweat and blood. It’s nothing a shower and a good night’s sleep can’t fix, but he realises that he should really apologize to the man who has to spend the next twelve hours sitting beside him. Maybe he can buy him a drink or something to make it up to him.

He reaches down to turn on the sink and splash some water into his face, but the burst of cognisance that the cold provides only makes him more aware of the stinging of his back. So he grits his teeth and gingerly pulls his shirt over his head. The air conditioning in the cabin is frigid as it meets his bare skin, but he hardly notices as he tosses his shirt onto the seat beside him and twists around to get a look at his back.

In stark black, behind a glossy layer of cling film is a pair of ravens taking flight. He reaches behind him and gingerly ghosts his fingers over the film in admiration before moving to peel it off. He can’t help but shiver as the skin underneath is revealed to the air of the cabin, not from the cold air streaming down from the vent above, but from the exhilaration he always feels whenever he gets a new tattoo.

Once the cling film is off, he unrolls an unnecessary amount of toilet paper from the niche in the wall and begins to wipe away the excess blood and ink that still coat the wound. When he’s done, he slathers some soapy water across his back, pats it away, then hops onto the counter to get a better look.

The ink stands black against his olive skin, taking up a majority of the left side of his back and wrapping around the side of his ribs. It’s the largest piece he’s ever had done in one sitting, but by no means a large portion of all his combined work. He has to admit though; it’s probably some of the best art he’s got on him. The two ravens are rendered in extreme detail with their spread wings wide and each of their three claws splayed out before them. The Chinese myth of the sun bird, the crow with three legs, had fascinated him since the second he’d heard it told by a drunken businessman one night in a rundown kaitenzushi. His further research into the topic had convinced him to have the tattoo done as soon as possible, but even today, it still felt like it wasn’t soon enough.

After he’s sure the work is clean, he pulls his shirt back on and heads back to his seat. When he’s settled, he raises his hand to signal a flight attendant with the intention of buying a drink of apology for neighbour. Instead, he’s surprised to see a swirl of ink sneaking its way across his palm. He yanks his hand down into a lap with a small squeak that earns him yet another glare. Determined that the guy could still make a great drinking buddy yet, he offers him a polite apology before glancing down at his hand to read what’s written there.

 _Looks like it hurt,_ is written in messy scrawl across the flat of his palm.

He quickly scrambles to grab a pen from his bag and writes a reply, _totally worth it._

_I love it! What’s it for?_

Unsure of how to answer such an open-ended question on a surface quite literally the size of his hand, he settles on writing: _Hong Kong._

_Very jealous._

_Why? It’s your ink now, too._

_I mean of the traveling, you goof._ He reads the words forming at the edge of his palm as the writer runs out of room on his hand and the text starts snaking down his pinky. _Where to next?_

He briefly considers how he's supposed to reply before rolling his left sleeve up to his elbow to find some room to write. He settles on a spot in the space between some of the green foliage on his wrist. _NYC, en route now._

 _My city!_ A quick exclamation written on top of their previous conversation. _You finally coming to meet me?_ Comes a less hurried response in more legible font among the leaves on his forearm.

He bites his lip when he reads the words and a small feeling of guilt begins to settle in the pit of his stomach. He’s never actually met his soulmate. In fact, he hasn’t shared a single thing about himself. Not where he’s from, not his hobbies, not even his name. Though that’s not quite true; the entire story of his life is written in the ink of his tattoos. Every single city he’s visited, every person, and every moment that’s left an impact on his life, he’s had engraved permanently into his skin.

Despite all this, and even though they practically share a body, he just can’t bring himself to share anything more. He knows it’s not fair to the person who basically knows him better than anyone else on the planet, but he’s just not ready yet. It’s not that he’s running away. Not exactly. He’s seen more of the world in the past five years than most people will see in their lifetime. He’s scaled mountains, crossed valleys, and shared in the traditions of dozens of cultures around the globe. Throughout all his travels, he has not once backed down from a challenge just because it might be hard or painful.

Well, maybe one.

He's never settled down anywhere or with anyone for more than a few months. But even with the offer written plainly on his arm in pen, he’s still can’t make the leap. I mean, you can’t regret something you haven’t done, right? Fairly sound reasoning as far as he’s concerned. Maybe.

He moves his hand to ghost his fingers over the sunflower inked into his forearm; the only tattoo among his collection that his soulmate's gifted to him. He only realises he’s gone several minutes without a response as the words among the leaves of the plant and on his palm begin to fade, scrubbed away by another’s hand.

He watches as a single line of writing takes their place. _Have a safe flight._

 _Thank you._ Is all he can bring himself to write in return before he balls his hand into a fist and shoves it into his pocket.

\--

“It’s honestly getting frustrating.” He complains as he fumbles his debit card back into his wallet and grabs his meal off the counter. “I mean, shouldn’t we be way closer than this?”

“I don’t know, dude. Maybe he’s just shy or something.” Is the entirely unhelpful reply he gets.

“You can’t backpack your way through twenty six countries in five years while being shy, Cecil.” He counters as they grab a booth near the back of the deli.

“Well it’s either that or master criminal who can’t let anyone discover his real identity.”

He doesn’t reply to this. Instead he turns his gaze out towards the windows of the store and the street beyond, where crowds of people are rushing by in that ever-busy manner that is oh so crucial to the New York City lifestyle. It’s the middle of June and one of the most miserable days the city has seen in a while. Rain pours down from above as people attempt to navigate around each other amongst a clash of umbrellas.

“He’s here, you know.” He says suddenly, barely loud enough to be heard in the heavy din of the shop.

“Wait, what?” Cecil exclaims after he’s realised what was just said. “Here? He’s here in Manhattan?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” He mumbles, immediately regretting opening his mouth.

“Dude, that’s huge! What did he say?” Cecil leans in close over the table in a terrible attempt to facilitate conversation.

“Nothing.” He breathes out.

“What do you mean, nothing?”

“Nothing.” He says with a little more force. “He hasn’t told me anything. I don’t know his name, how old he is, or where he’s from. It’s been twenty two years and I don’t know a single thing about the guy! And not for lack of trying. I’ve been writing to him since I was like four, or whenever the hell it is they teach kids how to spell. I don’t know how I’m supposed to fall in love with a guy I’ve never – actually, wait. I don’t even know if it’s even a guy, maybe I’m actually straight or something and I’ve gone my whole life thinking –”

“Whoa, whoa, okay.” Cecil coos as he reaches across the table to pull his friend’s hands out of the entangled mess they’ve made of his hair. “I think you might want to slow down a little there.”

He just stares back in response for a moment before sitting up straight, prying his hands form Cecil’s grip and patting his hair back down. “Sorry. I’m just tired, I think. What with my residency and the zero hours of sleep I’ve been getting each night.”

“It’s alright, I understand.” Cecil offers his hand a pat before returning to his food.

“I just wish I knew more about him. He could be any one of the thousands of people walking down Fifth Avenue, and I wouldn’t even be able to recognize him.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is though.” He replies as he begins to rub circles into the sunflower that’s been inked into his forearm. “He’d have to be walking around shirtless for me to recognize him.”

“And wouldn’t you like that.” He rolls his eyes. “Though that’s not what I mean – what I’m saying is that you do know plenty about him. For instance, you know he fractured his arm when you were twelve from that nasty scar you've got. You know he got his ears pierced when you were like fourteen years old because you had to go find some earrings of your own to fill the holes. You know he got his first tattoo when you were seventeen years old and because he’s clearly an adrenaline junkie or something, got his eyebrow pierced on the same day.”

He can’t help but laugh as Cecil recounts the day he had woken up with a compass tattooed into the inside of his bicep and a small hole through his left eyebrow. It hadn’t been hard to explain the situation to his mother, but he’d still felt self-conscious about it for the entire week.

“But what I’m saying is, even if you’ve never met the guy, you still know a decent amount of stuff about him, right? He is your soulmate after all, so at the very least you know he’s got a pretty good taste in men.”

“You’re right.” He concedes with a laugh. “I just that he’s closer than ever. I wish I could finally meet him.”

“Who knows? The world’s not that big, right?

“Cecil, we’re literally in one of the largest cities –”

“Hush!” His roommate shouts as he springs out of his chair and loudly parades towards the entrance to the shop. “Let’s go home now. I want to see this new tattoo of yours. You were saying it runs all the way down to your ass?”

“Gods, keep your voice down.” He shouts after him, but his roommate is already out the door and into the pouring rain.

\--

His ass hurts like hell.

Twelve hours straight in an economy class seat without being able to rest his back against anything. He’s never been one to regret a tattoo, but at this point he’s considering it. He won’t be able to sleep comfortably for another week or so, but judging by how he drags his feet as he exits the airport terminal, he's going to be sleeping for a week straight anyway. In retrospect, life is terrible and everything sucks. _Oh well._ He thinks to himself, at least his soulmate can enjoy the tattoo without the days of stinging and peeling that come with it.

His phone tells him that it's just past nine as he gets into the taxi and tells the driver to take him to the shitty little hostel he’ll be staying at. The ride through the city is long and the streets are still wet from an earlier rainfall. From inside the cabin, in between bouts of sleep, he can feel rather than hear the sounds of the city at night. The static hum of neon signs leave his skin prickly to the touch as they pass by, and he’s reminded immediately of the back streets and alleyways of Hong Kong. The two cities aren’t all that different he thinks, not really. No two are, he’s reminded, when the taxi pulls up to a short squat building that’s oddly similar to the one he spent four months at in Hong Kong.

As he’s left standing in the rain soaked street in front of the hostel, he briefly considers whether to satiate his hunger or his equally dire need for sleep first. A snitch in his belly that causes him to stumble before he takes his first step forward provides a quick answer to the debate. So he makes his way back towards the main thoroughfare and begins searching for somewhere to eat.

He ends up in a small pizza shop not too far from his place, where he has to pay for his three dollar pizza and pop with twenty dollars’ worth of HKD. It takes some convincing, but eventually the guy behind the counter relents and he’s out the door with food and drink in hand.

It’s an unfortunate combination of sleep deprivation and having lived in Hong Kong for the past four months that as he’s crossing one of the streets on his way back to the hostel, he looks right instead of left. He doesn’t see the car that hits him, but he sure as hell hears the horn and the screeching of tires before his head hits the ground and he blacks out.


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you sure? He kind of looks like he’s homeless or something.”

“No, it’s totally true. He’s got one of those American Express black cards and everything. I sort of found it while looking for his ID.”

This information piques his interest and he turns towards his two co-workers who are gossiping near an unused gurney in a small niche off the hallway.

“Who are you guys talking about?” He asks as he makes his way towards them.

“Oh hey!” Kayla exclaims before pulling him in close and filling him in on the story in a conspiratorial whisper. “So, you know the guy they brought into the ward a few hours ago?”

“No.” He responds.

She waves him off. “It turns out they can’t find a single medical record for him in the archives. It's not super uncommon, they think he’s Italian or something, given his last name, so it’s likely all his records are overseas. But aside from that, the guy's clothes are filthy and it looks like he hasn’t slept in days, so you’d think he'd be some disheveled proletariat, right? But, while I was looking for his medical card, I found one of those ridiculously exclusive credit cards; you know the ones they only give –”

“Kayla!” A voice from down the hallway causes all three of them to jump.

“Yes, sir?” She squeaks as a physician approaches them holding a box full of plastic tubing.

“Could you please head to reception? They’re bringing in a woman now, and you're to assist Dr. Grole in his treatment.” She’s already run off as the doctor turns to the place the box in his other co-worker’s hands. “Austin, I need you to take this to room seventeen and give it to the nurse there, then come find me in room forty-one.”

“Anything I can do, sir?” He offers as Austin heads off in the opposite direction Kayla had gone.

“Yes, actually. The patient in room one thirty-two is due to be moved to an overnight room soon, and we need to update his sheet before we can take him there.”

“Already on it.” He chirps before spinning around and making his way towards the back of the hospital. It’s not a long walk, and when he makes it to his destination, he announces his presence with a short knock on the open door before entering the room.

The patient turns to face him as he walks in, and he’s stuck by how much of a mess he looks, immediately followed by how hot he finds him anyway. He clears his throat and pushes the thought out of his mind as he goes to grab the medical report that’s clipped to the end of his bed. He drags his eyes down the page, taking in the little amount of information the previous doctors had managed to coax out of him.

“You were hit by a car?” He asks without looking up from the page.

“That’s what they tell me.” Comes a slick reply. “I never actually saw the thing.”

His eyes shoot up in surprise at the voice that’s smooth as silk. It’s not exactly the sort of kind you’d attribute to the kind of guy that looks like he'd take first prize in a competitive dumper diving competition. He takes the moment he hadn’t before to actually look the guy up and down.

He’s got untamed and nearly black hair, long at the top and buzzed at the sides into an incredibly messy undercut. His eyes are equally as black (where they’re not bloodshot, that is) and are framed by high Italian cheekbones hidden under a slight layer of baby fat, as if his face is unwilling to completely give up its childhood just yet. He can see several piercings in each ear and one in his left eyebrow and his interest is piqued by a tattoo that he can see hidden just under the collar of his shirt, though he can’t really make it out. His clothes are covered in dirt, long sleeve shirt rolled down over his left arm and a splint on his right where he’s learned from the report that the guy’s dealing with a closed fracture to his ulna. His black skinny jeans are soaking wet and his shoes are in equally bad shape sitting on the ground near the bed.

“So are you actually a doctor or are you just some random guy who snuck into the hospital in scrubs to stare at patients?”

“Oh, uh…” He murmurs when he realises he has in fact been staring. “I’m not a doctor actually.”

He receives a quirked eyebrow in response.

“Shit. I mean, I am kind of. I’m doing my first year of residency here. They just sent me to get some more information out of you before they get you your cast and move you to the overnight ward.”

A smile crosses the stranger’s face as he leans back into his pillow. “Well, ask away then.”

He takes this as an opportunity to enter serious doctor mode as he takes out his flashlight to check for pupil dilation and begins shooting off questions. “Are you feeling light-headed? When was the last time you ate? Are you taking any medications?”

 _Do you maybe want to go out for some coffee later?_ He considers asking as he jots down the answers his patient gives him before moving further down the list of things he needs to record.

“We don't have you hooked up, so I’ll need to check your pulse; could you roll up your sleeve?”

“Uh…”

“Oh right, duh.” He flushes as he moves over to help the guy with his shirt while continuing on to his next question. “Your x-rays show that you’ve broken your arm before. Do you remember when –”

He freezes before he even has the guy’s sleeve rolled halfway up to his elbow, and he can’t seem to bring himself to finish the question. An intimately familiar sunflower is inked into the guy’s forearm in the exact same place he remembers having it done three years ago. There’s just no fucking way. This cannot be happening right now.

His patient doesn’t seem perturbed by the sudden silence and answers the question he’d been halfway through asking. “Oh yeah, I actually fractured it when I was a kid. I think I was like –”

“Twelve years old…” He mumbles; his mind lost in thought.

“Eleven, actually. I fell out of a tree onto the hood of a parked car. It’s quite the story actually. My sister thought she could shoot an apple –”  The patient stops short when he realises that his doctor-to-be isn't actually paying any attention.

Instead, his mind is going into overdrive as he tries to make sense of the ridiculous situation he’s walked into. He looks down quickly to see if all of his tattoos are covered by his work scrubs, and sees that they are. There’s no way this guy can’t realise who he’s talking to, but then again, he hadn’t known either. He looks down at the clipboard he’s holding and reads the name _Nico Di Angelo_ clearly printed at the top.

It’s only when his patient reacts, that he realises he read the name out loud. “Yeah, that’s me. Who are you again?”

 _Shit._ He thinks to himself. What is he supposed to do? Most people meet their soulmates when they’re like twelve years old, not when they’re twenty two in the middle of a hospital after one of them has been hit by a car. So instead of following any rational course of action, he panics.

“Doctor S – uh… Strange?”

Nico gives him an incredulous look. “Your name is Doctor Strange?”

“Yes.” Is all he can say in response.

“Well, Doctor Strange, didn’t you say you wanted to measure my pulse?” Nico says, offering up his arm.

He takes it tentatively in response, and gently lays his index and middle finger on top of his soulmate’s wrist. His pulse is steady and strong and the touch of his fingers to the delicately inked leaves is enough to cause butterflies to erupt in his stomach. He lets go of his arm quickly before the giddiness causes him to puke or something.

He somehow manages to regain his composure and returns to his clipboard in order to finish the examination. He gets the answers to a few more questions he needs, but not the one that’s been ringing alarm bells in his head the past few minutes. Mainly, why hasn’t he already told Nico who he is? The only reasonable explanation he can think of is that there has to be a reason the guy hasn’t told him anything about himself. The least he can do is return the favour, right?

But, there’s no way he can just let his soulmate walk out of the hospital, and risk never seeing him again. Not after he’s come so close. So he compromises.

“So you’re from out of town, right? Do you have any friends or family you can stay with when we discharge you tomorrow?”

Nico’s face darkens for a split second at something he’s said, but he can’t quite tell what, and he answers cheerfully enough that he wonders if he just imagined it. “I’m not sure, actually. I was supposed to check in at a hostel down on 23rd tonight, but if I’m not there it’s likely that they’ll give my bed to someone else instead.”

 _This is beyond perfect._ He thinks to himself as he tries to phrase his next question as innocently as possible. “Well, my roommate and I have been looking for a third in order to cut down on rent. I mean, it’s fairly pricey, but it’s a really nice place in the Upper West Side. So if you’re going to be in town for a while, you’re welcome to stay with us."

Nico eyes him curiously. “You’d offer your place to some guy you just met ten minutes ago in a hospital after learning he broke his arm walking straight into moving traffic?”

“I would.” He responds cheerily.

Nico looks away for a moment, and it seems like he’s actually considering his options.

“I can help you take care of your cast too.” He adds to make his offer even more enticing. “And I can even show you around Manhattan, if you want. I know it can be kind of overwhelming for people new to the city .

“Is this some sort of Hippocratic oath thing?” Nico asks wryly. “You seem awfully concerned about my well-being.”

 _It’s more of a soulmate thing._ He wants to say. “I’m just trying to help. You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.”

“No…” Nico bobs his head. “I’ll take you up on your offer.”

He immediately brightens in response. “Really? That’s great!”

“But I’m not calling you Dr. Strange.” Nico cuts in quickly. “What’s your real name?”

“Will!” Comes a voice from the behind him before he can answer. He turns to see Kayla beckoning to him from the doorway. “Dr. Perch wants all the residents present for her next operation.”

“Thanks, I’ll be there in a second.” Will calls back before turning towards Nico. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Can you call me when they let you out? I’ll come by and pick you up.”

Will hastily writes his phone number down on the clipboard, shoves it into Nico’s hand, and is out the door before he can even reply.

“Thank you.” Nico mumbles after a moment to the empty room.


	3. Chapter 3

“Pretty nice place you’ve got here.” Nico comments as he kicks off his shoes and takes his first steps into Will’s apartment. His apartment too now, he thinks, as he shuffles forward so Will can shut the door behind them.

The place isn't bigger than the one he was staying at in Hong Kong, as in you could sprint across it in three seconds flat, but it’s a hell of a lot nicer. The front door opens up directly into what clearly serves as their living room. There’s a ratty old sofa in the middle of the room facing the entrance, as if you’re supposed to sit in it and wait for someone to burst through the door Kramer-style for your entertainment. He can’t see a television, but there’s a high-end looking sound system plugged into the wall surrounded by bookshelves filled with textbooks. He can see a kitchenette tucked into the corner of the room with marble counter tops on which sit rustic looking kitchen appliances. As he takes in his surroundings, he can’t help but notice that the entire room is a strange mix of humble and luxuriant, and that he feels right at home in it.

“The bathroom’s right though there.” Will says from behind him, and he turns around to see he’s pointing to a door just off of the entrance. “No offense, but you might want to take a shower before you go any further.”

“Heh, fair enough.” Nico says as he drops his bag at his feet.

“Is everything you own in there?” Will eyes the mud encrusted bag as it hits the ground with dismay.

Nico frowns at him. “Mostly. Why?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.” He raises he hands in defense. “I just mean that you can borrow some of my clothes if you want, and I can wash the rest of your stuff while you’re in the shower.”

“Right.” Nico wrinkles his nose as he turns towards the bathroom. “Uh… that’d be great, thanks.”

“No problem. Just don’t forget to keep your cast dry while you're in there.” Will huffs as he picks up Nico’s bag and places it onto the small bench that serves as both their coffee and dining table.

“Will do, Doctor Strange.” Nico shoots back as he pulls the door closed behind him.

Will stares at the bag in silence until he hears the shower door slam and the water begin to run. _It’s not like he’d just leave the bag with me if there was anything important in it_. It’s a reasonable assumption, he thinks. It’s not like he’s going to find laundered money and seven different passports when he opens it, right? Despite letting the guy into his home, he can’t put the notion that maybe he does have something to hide out of his head. Eventually, he rolls his eyes at how ridiculous he’s being, and unzips the bag in one swift motion.

It’s immediately obvious that nothing in the bag has escaped the soaking it received from the rain last night. All of the clothes inside are crumpled and wet as he pulls them out, and he finds several entirely drenched cigarette packages that he removes gingerly and places beside him on the table. It looks like there aren’t any electronics in the bag, so at least he’s safe on that end, but he does find a curiously dry and padded manila envelope at the bottom of the bag that he sets down next to the rest of his gear.

Once he’s sure he’s collected all of Nico’s clothes, he throws them into the washing machine and starts a cycle before heading to his room to pick out something for him to change into. Nico’s only a few inches shorter than him, but he has his cast to deal with, so he grabs a tank top and a pair of sweats from his closet before returning to the living room and setting them down on the couch. After he’s done so, he realises that he’s at a loss for what to do next. He doesn’t really want to put too much thought into the fact that his soulmate is showering less than ten feet away from him. So instead,  he turns his attention to the folder on the table next to him.

He knows he shouldn’t, and honestly if these were normal circumstances, he wouldn’t. But in just the past twelve hours, his life has devolved straight into melodrama that even the Greek gods would be proud of. So he flips the folder upside down, gives it a shake, and out falls a bound weathered journal that looks like it’s been through hell. Will turns his head back towards the bathroom and is relieved to hear that the shower is still running before quickly scooping up the journal and taking a seat with it on the couch.

He gently flips opens the journal to the first page and sees the name _Nico Di Angelo_ written in the upper right corner, before turning to the next. The first few pages read like some sort of day journal, but he can’t seem to spot any dates and the entries seem rather angsty, nothing like the Nico he just met. He skims the entries but nothing really jumps out to him until he’s six pages in. His breath catches in his throat when he recognizes the drawing that takes up half the page. He fumbles to roll up his right sleeve and hold the journal up to the inside of his arm, and sure enough, it’s the same compass he woke up with all those years ago. The very one that had served as a reminder that he wasn’t all alone in the world.

Will jumps when he hears the shower shut off and Nico's feet hitting the tiled floor. _Shit, shit, shit._ He scrambles to roll his sleeve down and shove the journal back into its envelope before placing it on the table. He’s failing at casually making his way towards his bedroom when he hears the bathroom door open behind him, and he stops in his tracks. _There’s no way he heard me snooping, right?_ He slowly turns towards Nico in the least convincingly innocent way possible.

“Hey, Nico. Your clothes are right –”

Nico’s standing in his foyer with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and Will is so completely not ready for this. His lean torso, the way his wet hair falls over his eyes, and how his tattoos gleam under his slightly damp skin. He knows he’s only been staring for a few seconds, but it’s already too long to pass off as completely innocuous.

“There’s, um… You’re, uh…” He tries several times, unsuccessfully, to begin a sentence.

“Clothes?” Nico says, a smile playing at his lips.

“Couch.” Will manages.

Nico saunters over to the where Will’s laid out his clothes, picks them up, and turns back to the bathroom with a short wave over his shoulder. “Be right back.”

When the door finally clicks shut, Will runs a hand through his hair and lets out a heavy sigh. _What in the world have I gotten myself into?_

\--

“I mean, it’s decent, but it really doesn’t compare to the food from Hong Kong.” Nico comments as he forks the noodles into his mouth. It’s a little past noon and the two of them are sitting across from each other on the couch with Chinese takeout in hand.

“Well, not all of us have the means to travel the world in search of true culinary masterwork. Some of us just have to settle for calling in to the nearest take out place.”

Nico snorts in response before jabbing a chopstick towards Will in idle threat.  “Well I guess I’ll just have to introduce you to the world of fine cuisine myself. I mean it was probably going to happen someday, seeing as I’m going to be living here for the foreseeable future.”

“So you’re staying?” Will can't help himself.

“I mean I said I was going to, didn’t I?” Nico answers before glancing around the apartment. “Though I can’t help but notice that your place only has two bedrooms. Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Oh! We have an extra mattress.” Will quickly explains, pushing the implications out of his mind. “I actually used to sleep out here when our old roommate was still living here, then I moved into her room."

“Works for me.” Nico says as he puts down his empty takeout container and gets up to make his way towards the window. He has to step around several piles of junk that have begun to take over the corner, but he stops when he sees an old acoustic guitar and reaches down to pluck it out of its stand with his good hand.

 _Oh._ “You play, right?” Will comments, remembering the electric guitar he has tattooed into his right calf.

“Yeah, actually.” Nico looks surprised. “How’d you know?”

“Well, you kind of have that whole punk rock thing going on. I figured there was like, a fifty-fifty chance.” Will explains in a surprisingly convincing way. He feels bad about all the lying he’s been doing over the past day, and he can’t help but feel that the act doesn’t really suit him.

“Well, good guess. Though I can’t very well play right now.” Nico says, waving his encased hand in the air. “Maybe when I get this off, I can play you something.”

Will smiles at the thought. “But that’ll be another month or so. You sure you want to stay that long?”

Nico rolls his eyes at the question. “You know, a guy might begin think that he’s not exactly wanted, what with how often you try to turn away my company.”

 Will chews at his lip. “Well you know what they say about the punk rock crowd…”

“Oh yeah?” Nico puts the guitar down and slinks his way back to the couch. “And what is it they say about the punk rock crowd?”

“I don’t know, I was hoping you would. You know, being a part of it and all that.”

Nico lets out a snort as he takes a seat beside him. “I’m staying, Will. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

\--

“You sure you’ll be able to find the place okay?” Will asks from the couch as Nico pulls on a shirt and shoves his feet into his newly washed shoes.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll only be gone a few hours. And when I get back, we can go shopping for some real food and pitch all that frozen shit you have, okay?”

“My tastes being offensive to you, doesn’t mean they're not allowed to exist.” Will counters.

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico waves him off before making his way out the door and shutting it behind him.

Will turns his attention back to the medical textbook laid out before him for about five seconds before the front door flies open and Cecil barges his way into the apartment in the noisiest way possible.

“You’ll never guess who I just met.” He singsongs as he plops himself down on the couch beside Will.

“Who’s that?” Will responds without looking up from his work.

“Oh, just your freakin’ soulmate is all!” Cecil announces brightly before he starts firing off questions. “I can’t believe that’s him! He’s totally hot, right? I mean, for a guy. But you have to tell me all about it! What happened? You said he got hit by a car? And now he’s staying with us? Does he seriously not know who you are?”

“Gods, slow down Cecil.” Will abandons any hope for studying. “He doesn’t know who I am, and I’d like to keep it that way. So please stop yelling.”

“What are you talking about, dude?” Cecil needles him. “Yesterday, you were all 'woe is me' about how terrible it is that you don’t know a thing about your soulmate, and now that you’ve met the guy, you don't even want to tell him who you are?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Cecil.” Will starts to explain. “I couldn’t just spring the whole soulmate thing on him after he woke up in a hospital straight out of a car accident.”

“Then when is a good time, Will?” Cecil admonishes. “After you’ve lured him into your house and gotten all friendly with him? Is that when you can finally tell him you’ve been lying to him from the start?”

“I just want to get to know him, Cecil.” Will breathes out. “Is that too unreasonable? That maybe, after twenty two years of radio silence, I might actually want to talk to the guy for more than a minute? Do you understand how awkward those conversations would be if this whole soulmates thing was hanging over our heads the entire time? I mean, he’s the one person I’m destined to fall in love with, but how can I do that if I don't get to know the guy first?”

Cecil levels a stare at Will that causes the hairs on the back of his neck to stand as if under trial at court.

“Okay.” He finally cedes before a smile cracks his hard façade. “But I’m not calling you Doctor Strange.”

“Fair enough.” Will lets out a puff of a laugh.

“This is still going to be tricky though.” Cecil says as he moves closer to Will and hunkers down. “What with him living with us and all. It’s the middle of summer, but you’ll need to be in long sleeves all the time. And it also means you’ll have to avoid showering naked with him for the time being.”

Will shoves Cecil in response. “Gods, you’re such a pain in the ass.”

Cecil snaps his fingers at this. “Good point! You’ll also have to avoid being a pain in his ass until –”

Will just stands up in silence and walks away.


	4. Chapter 4

“I think this is literally the most amount of fresh food we’ve ever had in this place at once.” Will says as he makes his way towards the kitchen with groceries in hand.

“Will, please. You’re going to make me depressed.” Nico sighs as he trails behind him. “There’s so much more to life than fast food and frozen dinners.”

Will can’t help but laugh. “You just tell me how well that philosophy of yours holds up when it’s you who’s up at five in the morning with eighty more pages to read before your exam tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Nico relents. “But that doesn’t mean you can just give up entirely on real food. How about we make extra tonight so that you can eat the leftovers whenever you want, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me.” Will proclaims before dumping the bags of food onto the counter. “But what exactly is it we’re making again?”

“Japchae.” Nico replies as he sidles up to Will and begins to lay the ingredients out before them. “Basically just stir-fried starch noodles with some beef and vegetables thrown in. It’s a recipe I picked up while I was staying in Seoul a few years back.”

“That sounds, uh… significantly more complicated than anything I’ve ever cooked.”

“And as sad as that is, it doesn’t preclude you from slicing vegetables.” Nico teases as he thrusts a bundle of carrots into Will’s hands and gets to work on the rest of the meal. 

Their time in the kitchen is short but sweet. Will ends up having to do most of the work, partly because of Nico’s broken arm, and partly because the guy’s like a drill sergeant when it comes to food and the kitchen. Every move Will makes undergoes scrutinous watch and Nico has to take over for him several times, but he can't complain seeing as the end result is two bowls full of noodles and several plastic containers full of them in the fridge.

\--

“That. Was. Amazing!” Will exclaims as he falls back onto the couch with a loud thump, having just finished washing the dishes.

“It wasn’t anything special.” Nico takes a seat beside him and curls his legs up under himself, leveling a fond gaze down on the blond.

“What?” Will can’t help but question the look he turns his way.

“Nothing.” Nico responds before looking away. “I’m just glad you liked it. I mean, it’s the least I could do after you offered up your apartment to me and all.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Will smiles. “I mean, I couldn’t very well leave someone new to the city out on the streets with wet clothes and a broken arm. That would just be cruel and unnecessary.”

“Oh, I’m not actually new to the city.” Nico explains. “I lived here for a few years back when I was a kid, though I haven’t been back since I left.”

The news shocks Will. Nico had lived in New York? It wasn’t exactly something he hadn’t considered, but knowing that they’d shared a city in the past reminds him of the question that’s been burning in the back of his mind for the past day. He knows he has to ask, but his voice is hesitant. “What… what made you come back?”

Nico’s gaze is locked on the hands he’s fidgeting with in his lap. “I just…  There’s something I needed to take care of here. Something I’ve put off for far too long.”

Will can practically feel his heart jump into his throat at Nico’s words. So he takes the plunge. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Nico looks up from his hands into Will’s eyes and considers something for a long moment before finally shaking his head. “No, sorry. I Just… maybe some other time. It’s kind of been a long few days for me, and honestly? I could go for a drink right about now. You want to join me?”

A flash of disappointment crosses Will’s face,  both from the lack of information and the realisation that Nico still doesn’t trust him enough to talk about it. He lets out a sigh. “I can’t go out. I have to work tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I was just –”

“But.” Will interrupts. “We do always keep an extra bottle of wine under the sink and it’s only nine o’clock, so…”

A smile slowly sneaks its way across Nico’s face until it becomes a full-fledged grin. “Let’s get pouring.”

\--

“No way!” Will grips at his stomach in laughter, though he’s careful not to spill his drink. “I refuse to believe you didn’t realise what was going on sooner!”

“How was I supposed to know? I’d been there two days! I didn’t speak the language yet.” Nico rebukes. “Besides. An actually sane barber would never hear _short_ and think _buzz cut_. I’m telling you, I’m lucky I didn’t get ground up and cooked into a pie or something.”

“Gods, I can’t even imagine you without hair!” Will snorts.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.” Nico rolls his eyes as he takes another gulp of his wine. “That’s not even the most ridiculous of my stories from Singapore.”

“Ugh, please. You don’t even know how jealous I am right now.” Will says as he leans in to refill Nico’s glass. “I’ve seen like an inch of the west coast and a bit of the east. I haven’t even been outside the states. But, you! You’ve been practically everywhere – France, Singapore, Hong Kong. You’re barely twenty one, but you’ve been to twice as many countries!”

Nico chuckles and sways a bit in his seat as he listens to Will’s musings, so he places a hand on the blond’s knee in order to steady himself. “That’s no reason to be jealous of me. Sure, I’ve been living abroad, but you’ve been living your own life right here. Neither of our situations is better or worse, just different.”

 _Am I really living life to the fullest though, if I’m doing it without you?_ Will muses.

“Do you have a soulmate?” Nico asks after a moment.

It’s not usually something you just straight up ask someone, being a personal question and all that, it’s kind of a social faux-pas. Except that it’s relevant to the conversation and, fuck, it’s Nico that he’s talking to. “No. I don’t. Or if I do, I’ve never heard from them.”

Nico tightens his grip on on his knee and offers Will a small smile. “I’m sorry to hear that. You seem like a really great guy. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

The proximity causes Will to shudder, but the sentiment irks him. Is he seriously being told that he’d be a great match by his soulmate, who’s basically been ignoring him for his entire life? He jerks out of Nico’s grip and turns away to stand up. “It’s getting late. I’m going to head to bed, alright?”

“Yeah, okay.” If Nico is surprised at the sudden announcement, he doesn’t show it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.”

\--

Will wakes up with a dry mouth and a penchant for his alarm clock. He knows it’s just doing its job, but so are politicians, and that doesn’t mean he has to like them for it. He gives it a good hard slap to thank it for its work and to shut it up before stepping out of bed and making his way to the bathroom. He’s vaguely aware of the tangle of sheets he has to walk by on the way, but the reason behind them only becomes clear to him when he opens the door to find it already occupied.

“Oh shit, sorry.” He mutters as he goes to pull the door shut.

“Wait.” Comes a voice from inside the room. “It’s fine, I’m not indecent or anything. I could actually use your help with something.”

Will hesitates for a second before pushing the door open and taking a step inside. Nico is sitting on the counter with a small tube in his hand, wearing nothing but the sweatpants Will has loaned him.

“What are you doing up this early?” Is the first question that pops in Will’s mind. “It’s barely six in the morning.”

“It’s never too early for a morning run, Sunshine.” Nico explains as he hops down from the counter and hands the tube he’s holding to Will. “Could you do me a favour and rub some of this into the new piece on my back? I can’t quite reach all of it by myself.”

Will has to stop himself from vocalizing his thoughts as he grabs the tube from Nico, who turns around and leans up against the counter. He quietly squeezes some of the gel onto his fingers and begins rubbing circles into the ravens inked into his soulmate’s back. Surely small talk will take his mind off the feeling of his skin against Nico’s. “You, uh… do a lot of running, then?”

“No, actually. I’m usually doing laps in a pool or the ocean by this time in the morning. Though it’ll be a while before I can get back to it, what with my brand new cast and shiny new tattoo.” Nico responds with a shrug. “Swimming’s sort of a habit I picked up from a friend in high school, and it’s one I’ve never really been able to kick.”

“That explains why you’re so fit.” Will comments as he nudges Nico with the tube of aftercare gel to indicate he's done with it.

“Nice of you to notice.” Nico offers him a sly grin as he turns around and takes the tube from Will’s hands. “You’re not so bad yourself. Though it’s king of hard to appreciate, what with you constantly wearing the bulkiest of clothes all the time.”

“I just get cold sometimes, in the uh… summer.” Will explains dumbly as he begins to tug at his collar before realising that’s probably not the best idea.

“Well then, maybe when it’s cold enough outside, you can take me to the beach and I can swim vicariously though you. But in the meantime, I’ll let you get ready for work.” Nico smiles over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door and sneaks it shut behind him.

\--

The rest of the week passes quickly for Will, between days at the hospital and nights at home with Nico, sharing the couch and whatever food he’s decided to cook for them that day.

Will isn’t fully sure what Nico does during the day. He knows the guy’s out the door before him in the mornings, and sometimes isn’t home until after Will gets back. But, he'd feel more okay about it if Nico didn’t wave off all the questions Will asked him about how his day went. Instead, he settles for listening to Nico go on about the time he’s spent traveling the world. At first, Will is convinced that Cecil is right about the guy being an adrenaline junkie, from bushwhacking along the Congo to bungee jumping in Australia. But he’s convinced there’s another side to him when Nico talks about the time he lived with a Hindu family in Nepal, and the month that he spent in South America helping out at a local school.

It’s the Friday night a week after their first encounter in the hospital that brings about a change to the schedule they’ve settled themselves into. The two of them are on the couch eating an Italian dish that Will’s already forgotten the name of when he turns to Nico and asks him a question.

“Hey, you’re free tomorrow night, right?”

“I’ve got no plans.” Nico replies.

“Perfect.” Will chirps. “That means you won’t mind going with me to this show that Cecil got me tickets for.”

“I don’t see why not.” Nico smirks. “What are we going to see?”

“It’s… Actually, I’m not really sure what it is.” Will says as he gets up and goes to his bedroom to fetch the tickets for the event. He comes back with a glossy pamphlet that has _Sleep No More_ written on its face and their two tickets. “Cecil told me that it’s sort of a retelling of Macbeth that takes place over a couple of hours in this huge warehouse downtown. They sort of just let you wander around the place while the scenes play out all around you.”

“That sounds… artsy.” Nico offers as he takes the paper from Will.

“Cecil also told me that he had a really good time.” Will ripostes, then adds. “And, I hear they have a full-service bar.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t sound so bad.” Nico laughs. “Let's give it a shot, then.”

“Great!” Will smiles as he bounces in his spot on the couch. “It’s a date.”

\--

“You guys are going to love it!” Cecil’s exclaims from beside Will as the three of them make their way down the streets of New York City. It’s nearly ten o’clock, but the sidewalk is still crowded.

“I really appreciate you giving me your ticket, Cecil.” Nico says from the other side of Will.

“No problem.” Cecil asserts. “Will and I can go some other time.”

“Wait, really?” Will sounds surprised. “You’d want to go more than once?”

Cecil seems entirely too happy to explain. “Sure! That’s what’s so cool about it. Each time you go, you get to experience it differently. It’s a huge warehouse, so you can’t see everything that’s going on at once. And sometimes they’ll whisk one or two people away from the group and perform a small private scene for them that no one else gets to see.”

“That sounds kind of creepy, actually.” Will can’t help but mumble as they walk up to the marquee that indicates they’ve arrived at their destination.

“True art is supposed to make you uncomfortable.” Cecil laughs as he pushes the two of them towards the entrance and waves them off. “I've got to get to work, so I’ll catch you guys later. Try to enjoy yourselves.”

The doorway leads into a hallway that eventually opens up into a room that’s outfitted to look like a sort of prohibition era speakeasy. There are a few people in masks milling about, nursing their drinks and contributing to the quiet din of the room.

“Tickets?” Comes a voice from behind them, causing them both to spin around in surprise. Will shares a nervous glance with Nico before he removes the tickets from his pocket and hands them to the woman in exchange for masks of their own. Once she’s clipped their tickets, she begins to explain what’s going on.

“The show will begin in a half hour, but in the meantime, feel free to have a drink and relax at the bar. Once we do begin however, we ask that you keep these masks on at all times and that you don’t speak unless spoken to as to not disturb the other guests.”

Once the lady’s wished them a pleasant evening and walked off, Will glances down incredulously at the masks he’s holding on to. They’re plain white and vaguely reminiscent of those plague doctor masks from the seventeenth century. Nico just shrugs, takes one from Will’s hands and pulls it down over his face.

Will does the same before turning his gaze to the bar in the corner and nudging Nico with his elbow. “Care to join me for a drink?”

Nico nods in response and the two of them sidle up to the bar to order two whiskeys.

The room is dimly lit by dull electric candlesticks that line its walls. The mood lighting fuels a nervous flare in Will’s stomach that shoots shivers to the tips of his fingers and toes, but he realises he feels marginally better as he begins to downs his drink. They’re both into their second whiskeys when a masked man enters the room and invites the group to begin their tour of the warehouse.

Nico offers his arm in invitation as the rest of the guests make their way out of the bar. Will looks up at him in question, but he can’t make out his expression through the mask. Nico holds his arm out further, and Will is sure he’s grinning now.  “Don’t want to get lost along the way.”

Will quietly threads his hand through his soulmate’s arm before they both turn to follow the group.

The next hour of the show is a mesmerizing journey for the both of them. Actors duck in and out around them as they act out the story of a manic king and his prideful wife. They rifle through drawers in search of notes and letters left in waiting and watch as dancers immerse themselves in the live music that surrounds them.

They find themselves among a group of other patrons in a small but extravagantly decorated studio when a band makes its way onto the stage near the back of the room and begins to play a slow waltz. An actor barges his way into the room soon after, shoving Nico and Will together and urging for everyone to join him in dance. “Partner up now! Hurry please. We wouldn’t want the Queen to think you aren’t having fun at her party now, now would we?”

Nico’s eyes meet his and this moment feels entirely too surreal for Will. Without a word, his soulmate raises his right hand into the air and gently places his left on Will’s shoulder. Will swallows his reservations and grasps Nico’s hand in his before placing his right at his waist. When they begin, it becomes immediately clear that Will has no idea what he’s doing, but Nico manages to guide him through a full song before he feels a tap on his shoulder.

When they turn to see what’s happening, they spot a woman in a mask beckoning them to follow her. Will shoots a quick glance towards Nico who merely shrugs before the two of them break apart and make their way down the door the lady disappeared behind. She leads them quickly through several winding hallways without pause before finally slipping into an unlit room, with the two of them close behind.

Nico grips Will’s hand with his as they make their way into the darkness together before the door clicks shut behind them and they're steeped in an eerie silence. The tense quiet drags on, and Will’s nearly at his wit’s end when a rhythmic plinking sound starts up off to their right. The dripping continues as light slowly begins to illuminate the room and the two of them turn slowly towards the source of the noise. A thick liquid the colour and consistency of blood drips from a faucet into a basin, while beside it, a figure emerges from the shadows.

“Yet here’s a spot.” The women intones. “Out, damned spot! Out, I say! One, two. Why, then, ‘tis time to do’t. Hell is murky! Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeared?”

The speech sends chills down Will’s spine and he can hear Nico whimper from beside him as the woman begins to pace back and forth.

“What, will these hands ne’er be clean? Here’s the smell of the blood still, all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!”

Will is entranced by the scene when the sudden slamming of a door breaks him out of the spell. He spins around to see that Nico’s gone, and a sinking feeling settles into his stomach at the realization. Will’s out the door and down the hallway without a second thought.

\--

It doesn’t take him long to find his soulmate leaning against an antique desk in a side room, away from the crowd. His mask is cradled in his hands, and Will notices that he’s crying as he makes his way to him. They both stand in silence for several minutes as Nico attempts to compose himself.

“M’sorry about that.” Nico says when he can finally manage it. “I sort of lost it back there.”

“It’s fine.” Will says before turning to face his soulmate. “Are you going to be okay, though?”

Nico swipes at the wetness under his nose before nodding.

Will knows he’s prying, but his revelation in dark room forces him to ask. “Guilty conscience?”

Nico lets out a laugh, and the reaction seems to shock even him. “That obvious, huh?”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Will assures him.

“No, it’s just…” Nico stops short.

Will waits quietly to see if he’ll continue.

It’s not long before Nico works up the nerves. “I fell in love. I fell in love when I shouldn’t have, and then I lost everyone because of it.”

Will just stands there quietly as he takes in this information, but his thoughts are still muddied from the whiskey and high off the experience of the night, and he’s really not sure what to make of it.

Nico lets out another sob before continuing. “I lost everyone and then I ran away. I just straight upped and left. And I’ve been running ever since.”

Will gingerly reaches out to cup Nico’s cheek with his hand before swiping away the tears that crowd his eyes. “You don’t have to keep running, Nico. I may not know you or your past all that well, but I do know that there are places you can go and people you can talk to who will love you no matter what. All you have to do is let them.”

Brown eyes search blue ones as the Nico takes in his words. “Will…”

Maybe it’s the alcohol messing with his mind. The anonymity provided by the mask he’s wearing. Or maybe it’s just because it’s Nico and he’s been waiting to do this for the past twenty years of his life. But whatever it is, it pushes him to slowly lean forward until their lips meet.

After a moment, Nico presses his lips firmly against Will’s. He draws his good arm tight around the blond's back and pulls him in closer, causing the him to moan into the kiss. When Will finally manages to pull away for air, Nico’s thigh sneaks between his own and suddenly he’s shoved up against the desk. Nico’s dips his head down and begins to drag his teeth over the stubble along Will’s jaw when someone clears their throat at the door, and they both jump away from each other.

“No sex during the performance, please.” The actor says, leveling a glare at the two of them before turning down the hallway, leaving the two of them to pull themselves together.

“That was, uh…” Will starts as he bites at his swollen lip.

“Good.” Nico confirms as he straightens himself out with a smirk and pulls his mask back over his face. When he’s done, he offers his arm out to Will as before. “Now, shall we get back to the show?”


	5. Chapter 5

Will sighs as warm air rushes past the passenger side window of Cecil’s battered old truck, the one that never seems to roll down when you want it to, but always seems to get stuck open when you don’t. He can hear gravel begin to crunch beneath its tires as his friend turns off the highway onto one of the smaller roads that snakes its way down Long Island. He loves this time of year. Frickin’ loves it. New York summers will never be as listless as those back in California, but he can put up with some list if it means spending time with his friends here. And sure, it doesn’t hurt that Nico’s here with him now, too.

But even with Nico nestled between Cecil and him in the front seat, Will can’t help but feel that there’s something more that he should be doing about the whole situation. It’s been one week since their kiss and Nico hasn’t brought it up since. Sure, they still spend most of their evenings in the kitchen and on the couch together, but when night rolls around, they’re off to their separate beds.

At this point, Will wonders if it’s too late for them. He knows that that something happened in Nico’s past. Something that sparked a need in him to get away. It may have been love, or even loss, but the end result was a boy who was constantly on the run.

 _I’ll just have to tell him before he can run away again._ Will thinks to himself before the feeling of eyes on him causes him to turn to his left.

Nico is looking at him from beneath mirrored shades with a wild grin on his face. “You ready for a party?”

 _Or maybe I should just enjoy it while I still can._ He pushes the thoughts behind him as he returns the grin.

\--

Will’s eyes catch on a promising swell moving towards him. He’s quick to react as he kicks his board around and begins paddling ahead of it. His spirits lift along with his body as the wave catches up and he pushes himself up on the board. His muscle memory kicks in as he carves his board to the right as the wave starts to swell and pushes him forward. It takes a few seconds of concentration for Will to steady himself before he reaches that perfect moment of bliss that is surfing the crest of a wave. He exhales slowly as a familiar feeling fills his gut and all his giddiness leaves him. He’s at peace for a few seconds under the bright sun, and he’s never felt more at home than here among his friends, on top of a surfboard in the ocean.

Will is pulled down from his little stint in heaven when his board begins to wobble as the wave begins to die out. He turns his eyes towards shore and sees Nico watching him. He offers his soulmate a short salute and a grin before performing a stiff-legged fall backwards into the ocean.

When Will finally drags himself out of the water an hour later, his legs are aching and his body is exhausted. He makes his way over to the circle his group of friends have formed, and face plants onto his towel without grace. His wetsuit is starting to grow uncomfortable, but it’s the price he has to pay in order to hide his tattoos. He raises his head when he feels a hand on his head and turns his attention towards person it’s attached to.

“You doin’ okay there, buddy?” Nico laughs from above as he ruffles his wet hair.

“Just entirely exhausted, no big deal.” Will huffs as he revels in the touch.

“Heh. Well, you’ll have to teach me how surf when you’re finally up to it. Maybe when I get this cast off.” Nico glances at his damaged arm in modest self-pity.

“Yeah, it sucks that you can’t join us in the water or anything.” Will comments as he props himself up on his left elbow and turns towards his soulmate. “But, you’re still having a good time, right?”

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Nico pipes up. “Your friends are great, and they’ve been telling me all sorts of stories about you from college. Like that one time you were stuck in an elevator with Leo for a couple hours and you guys –”

“No! No no, we don’t talk about that!” Will yells as he lunges at Nico who tries, unsuccessfully, to push him away between fits of laughter.

\--

Daylight fades as a circle begins to form around the bonfire tradition dictates they must build as his friends trade in their volleyballs and frisbees for marshmallows and beers. The air is thick with smoke and laughter as the lot of them swap tales across the fire, catching each other up on their busy lives.

Will’s mind wanders as he surveys the scene before him from his spot in the circle. Across the fire, he can see Nico chuckling at something Piper’s told him and he takes a moment to admire the fact that his soulmate is completely at ease with these people he's known for less than a day. There’s a lot more that he can admire from his position to, from the flex of his muscles as he gesticulates in that wildly Italian way to the dance of firelight across the tattoos on his skin. Eventually Nico catches him staring and shoots a wink towards the blond before turning his attention back to Piper and the story he’s telling.

It’s well into the evening by the time their second mandatory night time beach party tradition entreats Calypso to bring out her guitar to the sound of whoops and cheers. It’s not that any of them can sing worth a damn, but it’s never managed to stop them from belting their out of tune songs into the night.

They’re several songs in when Nico stands up, makes his way over to Calypso, and bends down to whisper something in her ear. She smiles at whatever it is he says before lifting the strap of the guitar over her head and handing it to Nico, who grips it with his good hand and crosses his circle of friends towards Will.

“Care to help me with something?” Nico says when he makes it to him.

 _I’d do just about anything for you at this point._ Will thinks to himself wistfully before admitting. “I don’t actually know how to play or anything…”

Nico leans in close to whisper just inches from his ear. “I’ll walk you through it, okay?”

The sudden closeness sends shivers down his spine, but he manages a nod, his lips brushing Nico’s cheek as he does so. His soulmate swirls around in response and settles himself comfortably on Will’s knee before taking the blond’s right hand and draping it over the body of the guitar. When Will realises what’s going on, he winds his left arm around Nico’s torso and pulls him close to his chest. Nico throws a smirk over his shoulder before he begins tapping out a beat with his foot. His friends all look on in anticipation as they fumble through a few bars of out-of-beat strumming before finally falling into sync. After a moment, Nico clears his throat and begins to finger a few opening tabs with his left hand, before launching into the song.

_He’ll lie and steal and cheat,_

_And beg you from his knees._

_Make you think he means it this time._

Will’s breath catches in his throat and he fumbles the strumming a bit when he first hears Nico start off. He doesn’t have the best singing voice, it’s raspy and a little off key, but it’s also deep and completely enthralling.

_He’ll tear a hole in you,_

_The one you can’t repair._

_But I still love him, I don’t really care._

Will strums along dutifully, but his mind is elsewhere as Nico finishes off the first verse. He’s reminded of the dance they shared a week earlier, and the surreal feeling he’d experienced from being so close to his soulmate. He presses his mouth into Nico’s shoulder and smiles when Nico leans his head into the touch before launching into the next verse.

_And I don’t blame you dear,_

_For running like you did all these years._

_I would do the same, you’d best believe._

_And the highways signs say we’re close,_

_But I don’t read those things anymore._

_I never trusted my own eyes._

Will picks up his strumming as Nico reaches the chorus and the entire group adds their voices to the song in melodious cacophony.

_When we were young, oh, oh we did enough._

_When it got cold, ooh, ooh we bundled up._

_I can’t be told, ah, ah it can’t be done._

By the time they’ve reached the last verse, it’s just Nico crooning out the last few lines of the song alone.

_Keep your head up, my love._

_Keep your head up, keep your love._

_Head up, love._

_Head up, love._

He ends on a soft note, and for a moment after the last chord of the song fades, the crackling on the fire is the only sound that can be heard in the cold air of the night. Until applause and cheers break out from the group and several of them get up to shower them with compliments and pats on the back.

\--

“I’ll be right back.” Will tells Lou Ellen when he spots Nico making his way down the beach, away from the group. It’s well past midnight and everyone is slowly packing away their gear in preparation for the trip home. He knots shut and quickly tosses their trash bag into the bed of Cecil’s truck before jogging after his soulmate. By the time he catches up to him, Nico’s got a lit cigarette in his hand and is blowing out small puffs of smoke. Will shakes his head when he offers him one, so he pockets the pack and turns to face the ocean.

“I had a real good time tonight.” Nico finally says.

“Good.” Will says simply before pointing out. “I had no idea you could sing that well.”

“It’s nothing really.” Nico chuckles quietly.

“Well, I thought you were amazing.”

Nico offers Will a sidelong glance, a smile playing at his lips. After a moment he flicks his cigarette to the ground and toes it out before turning to make his way back to the cluster of cars. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Will’s hand quickly finds his arm and he’s being held in place. “Wait, Nico. There’s… there’s something I need to tell you.”

Nico seems so hesitate for a moment before turning to Will, indicating he continue.

“I just…” Will flounders before releasing his grip on Nico’s arm. “I just wanted to say thanks, y’know, for staying. In New York, that is. I've really enjoyed spending the past two weeks with you.”

Nico seems hesitant at first, but when it comes, his answer is sincere. “Me too, Will. I'm glad I stayed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stubborn Love by the Lumineers, for those curious.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Following the main story will be several short vignettes of how Nico (and Will) got each of their tattoos. Here's a sneak peek at one of them, plus some art I drew for it (which is after the writing in case you don't want people to see you looking at shirtless guys on the bus or whatever).

Cerberus

Thessaloniki, Greece

November, 2011

Nine o’clock sharp. That was the exact time Nico had to be waiting in front of the corner shop in order to sway Ms. Vallis into accepting his help with her daily shopping. The one time he’s woken up late, she’d stubbornly decided it was ‘pumpkin pie day’ and he’d found her a mile out from home attempting to drag two twenty pound pumpkins behind her.

And so it became a ritual that Nico would arrive each morning to help her carry her groceries to the small single-room apartment just outside of town where she lived. Her husband having passed away, and her children and grandchildren being long past the age of needing to be looked after, she lived alone but for her small Boston Terrier.

Cerberus, Nico soon learned was so named for his fiery temper and his propensity for snarling. Guarding the door to the apartment with such ferocity that Nico had barely been able to make it inside the first time without losing a toe. Only by his twentieth visit would the little demon hiding under silky black fur and iridescent eyes stop gnawing at his pant leg every time he entered.

It was in apology for the gashes along his ankle that Ms. Vallis first baked melomakarono for him, and it was after his first bite that Nico was hooked on her cooking. Every single day of the three months that he was in Greece, he would make the trek to the corner store and in return she would teach him one of her recipes. Each day he’d gotten better and better at cooking and each day they’d grown closer and closer. Eventually, or reluctantly, even Cerberus had grown to like the boy. The three of them happily sharing a meal on the balcony as they watched people walk the streets below.

On his last day in Thessaloniki, after saying his final goodbyes to the old woman and offering one last scratch behind Cerberus’s ears, Nico was excited. It was still too early for his appointment, but he found himself with nowhere else to go and nothing else to do to ease his giddiness.

Pushing his way into the tattoo parlor more than an hour before he was due had earned him a strange look from the receptionist, though if it was due to his age or earliness, he couldn’t tell. He smiled at him anyway before taking a seat and nabbing one of the binders that held some of the artists’ portfolios.

A cough clearly directed at him caused him to look up from the work he’d been admiring  to see the receptionist glaring at him. Dropping the binder and making his way towards the counter, he quirked an eyebrow at the guy in response.

“Are you even eighteen, kid?” The guy narrowed his eyes at him.

Nico couldn’t help but look him up and down, the guy hardly looked older than he was. “Why, trying to get lucky?”

A sneer. “I need to see some identification if you want to get any work done.”

Nico couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he pulled out his wallet and produced his New York license. Sure it was his fake, but it’s not like some asshole in Greece would be able to tell the difference.

The guy eyed it carefully for a minute. “There’s no way you’re –”

“Favon!” A hand thuds against the guy’s back. “What did we say about antagonizing our customers?”

The guy still had the audacity to roll his eyes, but he got up and made his way towards the back of the shop mumbling an apology.

“You must be Nico di Angelo.” The woman said as she stuck a hand out for him to shake.

Nico took her hand in response, admiring the moon that was inked into her forearm. “That’s me.”

“Sorry about Favon, by the way. He takes some warming up to, but he’s a family friend, and he’s pretty good with a tattoo gun, so we let him stick around. We do try to keep him away from the front desk, though.” She laughed. “But I’m sure you’d much rather get started on your tattoo than listen to me ramble on about the guy who just blew you off, so let’s get started, yeah?”

“Um…” Nico was a little lost. “I’m pretty early though.”

“That’s no problem!” The lady chirped in response. “I’ve been waiting to do this piece for weeks. I think you’re going to love the design I drew up.”

The realisation hit Nico and he tried to keep the surprise out of his voice. “You’re doing the tattoo.”

“Of course I am, you wanted the best we got, and that’s me.” She grinned at him. “Now come on, let’s get you inked.”

\--

In his seat in the airport terminal, it felt like his entire forearm felt like it had been set on fire. Though it was rather appropriate considering the bright red and yellow flames that now danced across its surface. Swallowing the pain, he stared down at his new tattoo in admiration, twisting his arm around to inspect each of the dog’s three heads that were now inked there. They looked ferocious among the blaze, each one poised as if to attack.

Cerberus, hound of Hades and guard dog to Ms. Vallis, Nico laughed to himself. He couldn’t think of a more appropriate tattoo to remember them by.


	7. Chapter 7

The week following the beach party passes excruciatingly slowly for Will. He finds himself at the hospital more often than not, having been selected for two separate sixteen hour shifts, and the ridiculous hours means that he barely has time to see Nico. They often get just a few short minutes in the morning and sometimes no more than a note tacked to refrigerated leftovers at night.

Will is exhausted when Friday night finally rolls around, but he’s content with the fact that he’s got two days off during which he has no responsibilities. He announces his arrival as he pushes his way into the apartment and kicks off his shoes, but receives no response. He knows Cecil’s probably already downtown bartending, but he doesn’t remember Nico saying he’d be out tonight. He shrugs it off, perfectly content to have the place to himself for a while.

\--

He’s practically falling asleep in front of his computer when midnight rolls around and he decides it’s time to head to bed. Nico still hasn’t returned, but he’s not worried. Really. The guy’s probably survived worse than a lone night on the town during his travels. So he closes his laptop, pushes himself out of his chair and makes his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He’s got his toothbrush in one hand and toothpaste in the other when something catches his eye in the reflection of the mirror. He blinks slowly as his mind tries to make sense of what he’s seeing, but when it finally clicks, he can hardly believe it. He storms his way towards his bedroom, dental hygiene forgotten, and dives for the phone on his desk.

\--

Less than twenty minutes later, Will can hear the frantic scrambling of a key in the lock to his apartment from his position on the couch. Nico’s expression is panicked as he enters the apartment, a sharp contrast to Will’s cool calm.

“Will, is something wrong? What the fuck was that phone call?” Nico questions as he makes his way towards him.

He stops short when Will holds up his hand and asks. “Where have you been?”

“I was just downtown, Will.” Nico explains. “What’s wrong? You sounded kind of crazy on the –”

“What were you doing downtown?” Will cuts him off, leaping off the couch.

Nico’s holds his position. “Nothing.”

Will throws his hands in the air and begins to pace back and forth. “Nothing! It’s always nothing with you, Nico. You never tell me anything!”

“What are you talking abou –”

“These!” Will takes an angry step towards Nico and jabs his finger towards the marks along his neck. “Can you explain what the hell these are?”

Nico just stares for a moment before replying. “Hickeys, I presume.”

“And what the hell are you doing getting hickeys on a Friday night?”

Nico’s eyes narrow at the implications of the question. “Will, you and I… We kissed. Once. We’re just friends, nothing more.”

“Are you kidding me?” Will’s anger flares at the nonchalant response, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a second, thoughts racing. He knows he has to do it before he loses his mind. So he yanks the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow and thrusts his arm towards Nico. “Do you see that! Do you know what it means?”

Nico does nothing but stare silently at the sunflower inked into Will’s forearm for a long second.

“It means we’re soulmates, Nico.” Will breathes out when he can’t take the silence anymore.

Nico’s gaze hits the ground and Will almost misses is when he mumbles. “I know.”

Will is anything but smug about the revelation. “What do you mean, you know?”

“I mean, I know, Solace.” Nico sighs before shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a step around Will. “Or rather, I knew.”

“What are you talking about?” Will says without turning to face his soulmate.

“Seriously, Will? Did you think I wouldn't realise? I recognized your handwriting when you gave me your phone number the first day we met. Your handwriting is as messy as it is memorable. And if you haven’t forgotten, you’ve been writing to me telling me you wanted to be a doctor since you were like eight years old, it wasn’t exactly a leap. Also, Doctor Strange? Seriously? You’re a pretty shit liar, Will.”

Will turns around to face Nico after his short diatribe, confusion sewn into his face. “You knew this whole time? Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Nico counters.

“I would have.” Will explains. “But I didn’t think you’d talk to me if you knew who I really was, it’s not like you’d been exactly forthcoming before. I just wanted to get to know you without the whole soulmates thing hanging over our heads the entire time.”

“Gods.” Nico groans, rubbing at his temples. “This is the whole reason I never wanted to meet you in the first place.”

“What? So you could sleep with whoever you wanted to without feeling guilty about–”

“Shut up, Will!” Nico barks suddenly. “You don’t know. You just don’t.”

“Then explain!” Will yells back louder. “Tell me why you’ve ignored me for twenty years, tell me what you did all those years ago that you feel so guilty about, and tell me why you’re so stupidly afraid of love. I just want to understand, Nico. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Nico seethes for a minute, his fists tight at his sides before he finally he eases up and gestures toward the couch. “Sit down then, it’s a long story.”

Will just glares at his soulmate before stiffly making his way towards the couch and sitting down. Nico kicks his shoes off, takes a seat beside him, and sucks in a deep breath before launching into his tale.

“I was eleven years old when my father moved me and my sister to New York City. My mother had just passed away and my father thought it would be easier to bring us here than move to Italy. I took her death okay, considering. I still had my sister with me and our new city was so much more shiny and exciting than our old one. We really helped each other through the first few months of that summer. But, when school finally started up, I ended up meeting this guy. He was a few years older than me, sure, but he was kind and funny and good looking, and he didn’t mind that I was kind of annoying or that I talked too much. And the more time I spent with him, the more I fell in love… All the while you were there, leaving notes on my skin.”

“So you decided not to tell me anything, rather than what was actually going on?”

Nico nods solemnly before continuing. “I was sixteen years old when my sister left for school and never came back. She’d offered to walk with me that morning, too, but I’d turned her down so I could walk to school with my _true love_ instead. She was hit by a car crossing the street. They said she'd died on impact.”

“Nico…” Will starts.

“I felt terrible, like I’d betrayed her somehow. And of course, I’d gone to my best friend at the time to cry my feelings out. I hadn’t meant to also confess my love... But I did. And of course I knew he already had a soulmate. That he loved her. But I did it anyway. I got rejected, obviously. And then I ran away. Bianca had always loved to travel. She’d wanted to see the entire world, but the opportunity was taken from her. So I vowed to go in her stead.”

The two of them sit in silence for a moment before Nico rolls his right sleeve up to his shoulder and runs his fingers over the compass tattooed on his arm.

“I got this done on the same day that I left for Japan. I didn’t even stay long enough to go to her funeral, and I’ve always regretted that. It’s the reason I came back to New York City in the first place. To visit her grave.”

“That’s where you’ve been going each day for the past few weeks, isn’t it?” The revelation hits Will.

Nico nods sadly. “I wanted to apologize to her for leaving all those years ago without saying goodbye. So I go there and talk to her. I’ve told her all about all my journeys. All the things I’ve done and the friends I’ve made along the way. I’ve even told her about you…”

Will has to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry about your sister, Nico. But you must know it wasn’t your fault, right? You don’t know what would've happened if you’d walked with her instead. You don’t have to feel guilty for falling in love.”

“Really, Will?” Nico’s face scrunches up. “Can you of all people say that? If it wasn’t guilt that stopped you from telling me who you really were, what was it then? Were you just stringing me along for the heck of it?”

“No, Nico, of course not.” Will backpedals. “You were still in the hospital, I just didn’t think you were ready –”

“Ready to what? To fall in love?” Nico scoffs. “Well, maybe you were right, maybe I’m not.”

At these words, he’s up off the couch and stomping his way towards the door of their apartment.

“Wait!” Will shouts after him, stopping him just short of the threshold. “You can’t just go, we’re supposed to be soulmates. Tell me you don’t at least feel something between us.”

Nico stands frozen in place at the words. “Will, I…”

But he never gets to hear the end of the sentence.

The soft click of the door shutting behind him isn’t nearly as loud as the blaring silence of his apartment without Nico in it.


	8. Chapter 8

Will wakes to the bright light of the sun across his face. He wonders for a moment how it’s possible considering the window in his room faces a brick wall, but he quickly comes to realise it’s because he fell asleep in the living room. Or more specifically, in Nico’s bed.

Which means Nico never came back.

 _No._ Will thinks as he pushes himself up and scrambles his way to his bedroom and then towards the bathroom once he finds the first place empty. He even checks the fridge and outside the front door because there’s absolutely no way that Nico’s gone. There just isn’t.

The commotion of his frantic search must have woken Cecil up because he steps out of his room with a mess of bed hair and a confused look on his face.

“Did you sleep with Nico?” Will pushes towards Cecil before he can ask what’s up.

“What? I… what?” Cecil looks entirely too confused.

“Is he in your room?” Will clarifies.

“No… he’s still not back? I thought it was weird when I got home and you were in his bed. I kind of figured you two had, you know…”

 _This can’t be happening._ Will bites at his lip so hard he starts tasting blood. “Gods, no. We had this huge fight, Cecil. I showed him my tattoos, told him we were soulmates, and now he’s gone.”

“You actually told him?” Cecil sounds surprised.

“That’s the thing.” Will’s voice is panicked. “He already knew. Or, that’s what he said, and then he told me about his dead mother, and all about this guy he fell completely in love with in high school, until his sister died and the guy wasn’t there for him, so he ended up blaming everything on himself, causing him to run away from home, get a tattoo, and –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down.” Cecil runs a hand through his hair. “I’m going to make us a pot of coffee and then we’re going to sit down and you’re going to explain to me what exactly happened last night, okay?

\--                                                                               

After Will has relayed the events of last night to Cecil, he takes out his cellphone and sends Nico a text on the off chance that he might actually respond. When he doesn’t receive a reply, Will takes out a sharpie and writes, _call me, please,_ on his palm. A cursory search of the apartment reveals that Nico didn’t manage to sneak his way in at night. His clothes and most of this belongings are still there, not that he owns much. The only thing of any significance that’s left is the battered old journal that Will’s currently got in front of him on the coffee table.

“Are you going to read it?” Cecil asks when their eyes meet through the steam billowing off his coffee.

Will’s hesitant to answer. He’s not even sure what’s in the journal. He’d only seen the first few pages of it a couple weeks ago, and he’d hardly understood what he was reading at the time. All the same, he feels like it would be an invasion of Nico’s privacy, so he shakes his head in response.

“Are you sure?” Cecil tries. “You said it was a journal of some sort, right? There might be some clues as to where he ran off to or friends from his past who he might be staying with.”

The thought had occurred to Will, but he doesn’t back down. “Drudging up the past is why he left in the first place. He ran away for a reason, and if he doesn’t want to talk to me about it, then who am I to argue?”

“You’re not even going to try?” Cecil’s voice is almost pleading. “He’s your soulmate, Will.”

“I’ve already texted him, written to him even, and he hasn’t responded. I think the message is pretty clear. Will shakes his head before picking up the journal and throwing it onto Nico’s unmade bed.

“But –”

“Honestly, Cecil?” Will cuts him off. “Maybe this whole soulmate thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

\--

Only those who have experienced New York City know the distinct loneliness you can feel walking its streets among millions of strangers. Passing hundreds of people a minute, thousands an hour, bumping shoulders without so much as a glance or an apology. If Will were more jaded than he is, he might pity those who’ve yet to make a connection with that one special stranger on the street or at that one party, or even in a damned hospital bed. But instead, he just feels mad. He’s mad at himself for the ridiculous situation he’s put himself in, at the guy who broke his soulmate’s heart all those years ago, and he can’t help but be mad at Nico. Yes, he’s mad at his dear soulmate who has somehow found a way to make twenty two years of silence seem like bliss compared to a single day without his company.

Will’s day alone passes in agony as he flips between nearly leaving his apartment to search for Nico and vindictively staying inside. One minute he’s glaring at his phone willing it to buzz in response, and the next he’s angrily scrubbing away the message he wrote to his soulmate on his palm. Cecil eventually convinces him that maybe it would be best for them to go out for lunch and leave their cellphones behind.

Everything is winding him up the wrong way. Even the way the cashier gives him a cheery greeting as he steps up to the counter. No he won’t have a good day, dammit. Not when he can’t go home to the smell of Nico’s cooking in the kitchen or the sound of him humming along to a song on the radio. It’s all the little things that Will suddenly realises he misses about his soulmate. The way he can’t ever seem to hold back a snort when Will tells a joke or the way he runs his hand though his hair when he’s trying to remember whether the recipe calls for broiling or steaming the meat. He doesn’t know how he survived two decades without the guy by his side, when he’s not even sure he could survive another two hours.

And yet he does. In fact, he survives another four long weeks without so much as a word from Nico, and it’s not so terrible, Will thinks. He still has his work at the hospital, which he loves, and he still has his friends, who have been ever so diligent in keeping him company lately. He’s even found it in himself to head down to the gym four times a week to restart the training regime he’s been neglecting for years.

 _It’s kind of nice I don’t have to hide my tattoos anymore_ , he thinks as he walks out of the gym onto the street one day in a tank top and shorts. The summer heat warms his freckled skin and soothes his sore muscles as he begins making his way towards his apartment. Until a shout behind him stops him short. He turns around to see a tall brunette jogging towards him. The guy looks vaguely familiar, Will’s sure that he’s seen him swimming laps in the gym’s pool over the past few weeks, so he smiles at him as he approaches.

“Hey.” The guy greets him with a grin. “How’s it going?”

“Not so bad.” Will replies as he looks him up and down, taking in his tanned skin and his unfairly gorgeous body. The guy’s clearly been doing the whole exercise thing longer than he has. Will’s eyes catch on the snowy owl tattooed into his forearm as he clears his throat and asks. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, it’s just… when you were changing, I couldn’t help but notice your tattoos.” The guy starts strong.

“Oh yeah?” Will quirks and eyebrow in amusement. “You stare at guys in change rooms all the time, or am I the exception?”

“Oh! No, no… that’s, uh. That’s not what… I mean you’re fine, but I don’t… uh.” The guy flusters before finally pulling himself together. “I was just wondering if you knew someone named Nico di Angelo.”

The smile pulling at the Will’s face from the guy’s reaction immediately turns into a frown at the mention of his soulmate’s name. He’s hesitant to answer. “Yeah… why?”

“The tattoo you have on your arm.” The guy gestures at compass inked into his bicep. “It’s a design he showed me a long time ago, before he left.”

Will isn’t sure what to say. He’s having a hard time believing he’d meet someone from Nico’s past on the streets of Manhattan of all places. There’s no way he can just walk away from this though, so he fights down the lump forming in his throat and nods towards a nearby coffee shop. “You want to grab a drink and talk about it?”

“Sure.” The guy chirps before sticking out his hand. “I’m Percy Jackson, by the way.”

“Will.” He responds, grasping his hand. “Will Solace.”

\--

“So how exactly do you know Nico?” Will asks as they grab their coffees off the counter, and take a seat at a table near the entrance to the café.

“We knew each other in high school.” Percy begins dumping one packet of sugar after another into his coffee . “We were really close, best friends, actually. Or we were, until his sister died, and then he…”

“Then he told you he was in love with you.” Will finishes when Percy cannot.

“Yeah…” Percy looks down sadly. “I tried to call him, text him, do anything after he ran off, but his father told me he’d left for Tokyo the very next day. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“I know the feeling.” Will mumbles, and the two sit in silence for a moment.

“I don’t mean to pry.” Percy says, prying. “But you’re his soulmate, right?”

“I am.” Is Will’s response.

“But you’re not together?” Percy looks slightly disappointed.

“No, we… we only actually met for the first time two months ago.” Will explains. “I let him stay with me in my apartment for a while, but he left again a couple of weeks ago. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Will quietly sips at his coffee while Percy mulls over this fact. “He never told me he was back in New York City. You said he left again, though? Why?”

“It’s sort of a long story.” Will drags his finger lazily along the rim of his cup. “But I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Percy offers him a soft smile. “Then, I’d be happy to hear it.”

\--

It feels good talking to Percy about Nico di Angelo. Sure, he’s constantly twirling some pen is his hand when he’s not uncapping it and doodling on his arm, but he’s also genuinely listening to what Will has to say. Unlike Cecil, who’s constantly trying distract him from his worries and pain, Percy actually takes time to consider each problem and face it head on. To say it’s a cathartic experience would be an understatement.

An hour later, Will’s recounted most of his interactions with Nico all the way from when they were children to what happened just last month. He feels like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders, but he’s practically beat from talking so much. Percy on the other hand seems perfectly willing to keep going.

“That journal must be the same one he showed me when we were teenagers, if what you’re saying about the compass design is true.” Percy surmises. “Are you sure you don’t want to go through it? It might give you a clue as to where he ran off to.”

“It’s none of my business where he ran off to.” Will shrugs.

Percy seems abashed. “But don’t you want to find him. You know, work things out between you two?”

“I tried to work things out with him, for weeks, even. And look at where that got us.”

Percy is hesitant to reply at first. “But you didn’t really, though… I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but you were kind of lying to him for ninety-nine percent of that time. You only tried working things out with him in earnest for ten minutes, all the while you were at his throat for maybe partying a bit too hard.”

Will is about to defend his position in their fight when he stops and realises that Percy’s right.

“I mean, I get that the kid’s got some major hang-ups, a few of which I contributed to, but you need to consider that maybe you have some of your own. It can’t have been easy growing up thinking your soulmate was blowing you off because you weren’t worthy of his time or whatever. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve everything you want from him now. From what you’ve told me, you seem like a pretty great guy. I mean, if I didn’t already have Annabeth, I’d totally ask you out myself.”

Will can’t help but laugh at this before lilting a smile. “Would you, now?”

“For sure.” Percy’s eyes return the smile before turning a bit more serious. “I would have said yes to Nico when we were kids, too. It’s just… I already had a soulmate.”

“Well, he did too.” Will can’t stop himself.

“Which is all the more reason you have to fight for him. You two are destined to be together, but destiny sure as shit isn’t going to be doing the legwork. I’m sorry about what happened in the past, that’s just not something you can change, but what you can change is the future. You just need to be the one to take the first step.”

“You’re right.” Will is surprised to hear himself say.

“Sure am.” Percy laughs, clapping him on the shoulder across the table. “Does that mean you’re going to go looking for him?”

“Possibly.” Will bites at his lip. “I mean, yes. At least, once I find out where he’s gone. I’ll take a look at his journal to see if I can find anything, but my residency means I can’t exactly leave New York for the next few months.”

“That’s great news, Will!” Percy beams. “I really hope you find him.”

Another hour later, the two finally part. Will having promised to keep Percy updated on Nico, and Percy having promised to join him on his journey to find him once he knew where he was. So it’s with that goal in mind that Will makes his way back to his apartment and down the streets that suddenly seem a little less lonely.


	9. Chapter 9

Day 1

Will opens the box that contains all of the things Nico left behind and pushes through all the clothes until he finds the journal nestled near the bottom. The thing doesn’t really look all that special, it’s really just two pieces of stippled cardboard bound with string around a mass of pages and a few loose sheets of paper. He’d seen Nico open in it a few times while he was still here, but he’d never been nosy enough to find out what he was writing in it. Except now he has a reason to, so Will steadies himself with a deep breath and dives in.

The first few pages that had left him completely bewildered before make more sense to Will now. While not completely coherent, and peppered with smatterings of Italian, they describe a time before Nico had run away from home. Memories of Bianca and Percy fill the pages and Will soaks them all up like a sponge. The happy ones and the sad ones, the good times and the bad, he takes it all in. He reads about the time Nico fell out of a tree and broke his arm trying to get an apple down from one its higher branches. He reads about moment his soulmate realised he was in love with his best friend during a camping trip, under the stars. He reads about how he used to love hot chocolate in the summer and ice cream in the winter. He skims the entire paragraph about the way Percy’s abs shine when he gets out of the water during swim practice.

But he stops short when he flips the page and sees a familiar compass sketched into the middle of the page. His lips part in reverence and he runs his fingers over the faded ink, before his gaze trails down to the writing below where it read. _For Bianca, so you can always find your way home._

Will can feel tears start to form, so he closes the journal and places it on the coffee table away from the potential waterworks. _I don’t have to do this right now._ Will thinks as he presses his palms into his eyes and rubs away the tears. _I’ve got two months, sixty full days until my first year’s over. I don’t need to do this all at once._ _Even if I did figure out where he went, I’d be stuck here waiting until I could finally leave and find him._ Will glances at the journal, just lying on the table. He can’t believe the amount of power the thing holds over him.

 _A journey each day._ He promises himself. _I’ll read one journey every day, until I’m ready to leave._ _Until I can finally see Nico again._

 

Day 2

Will wakes up with a smile on his face despite it being ass-past five in the morning. He’s quickly out of bed and off to the kitchen with a hop in his step. He knows he doesn’t really have to worry about waking Cecil, who gets home around three and thus is dead asleep by five in the morning, but he pours his cereal quietly anyway. He knows that earlier, he’d said the things he missed the most about Nico were the little things like his laugh and his affectations , but the thing he misses the most right now are the omelettes he used to make for him every morning.

He sighs as he carries his bowl back to his bedroom and sits down at his desk to eat. The good news, he thinks, is that now he can think about his soulmate without feeling sick to his stomach, so all in all it’s an improvement from last week.

\--

 _Work, gym, journal. Work, gym, journal._ Is the mantra that carries Will through his day as he goes about setting bones and suturing cuts. It works surprisingly well, and before he knows it, he’s done his workout and is making his way towards his apartment with Chinese takeout in hand. As soon he gets home, he grabs Nico’s journal, settles down with it and his food on the couch, and begins reading.

The first few pages of the journal after the compass, Will realises, must have been written just after Bianca’s death. They’re filled with angry rants and cynical affirmations, and Will has to put down his food at risk of being sick. He slowly thumbs his way through the pages and watches Nico spirals further and further down a dark path, until he has to put the journal down too.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy, and he knew it wouldn’t all be sunshine and rainbows, but he can’t help but feel sorry for the kid he hadn’t been there for. And while reliving Nico first few weeks in Tokyo is borderline depressing, it’s also promising. Because now that he’s read about Nico at his worst, he’s also seen him at his best, among friends around a campfire and at home in Will’s kitchen.

Hope, Will realises, is what he’s feeling as he binds the pages together again. It had taken him a while to recognize what had always been such a foreign concept to him. But hope is what fills him as he lays the journal on the table in preparation for the weeks ahead of him.

 

Day 3

“Will, none of this makes any sense.” Drew scowls at him from across the table. “This reads like it was written by a five year old.”

“It’s from his first month in Japan.” Will sighs. “Of course his Japanese isn’t all that great yet. Now are you going to read it to me or do I have to find someone else to do it?”

Drew crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, looking unimpressed. The two of them are seated in some vegan restaurant Drew insisted on as Will sips at his smoothie innocuously, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Fine.” She says shortly as she picks up the pages she’d abandoned on the table. “But only because you two were so terribly sweet on each other during our last bonfire.”

“Soulmates.” Will points out helpfully.

“You don’t need to lecture me on love, darling.” She rebukes before returning her attention to the journal and picking up Nico’s story where she’d left off.

\--

Will runs his fingers along his right shoulder where he knows cherry blossoms bloom beneath the fabric of his shirt. It turns out that the second month of his soulmate’s stay in Tokyo had gone a lot better than the first, and Will smiles as he remembers Drew describing the family he’d stayed with and the festivals and the celebrations Nico had taken part in. Once Drew had finished reading, she’d walked around the table to show Will a rough sketch of the tattoo that was now inked into his skin. Sure, Nico wasn’t the best artist, but Will could see the effort he’d put into even as he read the words that ran below it. _Bee, you always said you wanted to see the cherry blossoms bloom in spring, I hope this will do._

 

Day 4

“Shit, fuck!” Will yelps as he pulls open the oven to a face full of smoke.

“Shit, fuck!” Cecil adds as he realises what’s happening and scrambles off the couch to pull the batteries out of their smoke alarm. By the time he’s opened all the windows and made his way to the kitchen, Will is just staring dejectedly at the burnt mess in front of him.

“I don’t understand why this happened.” The blond practically sobs. “I followed the recipe word for word.”

Cecil looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Will, you’ve managed to burn frozen dinners before. It doesn’t surprise me that you’ve managed to carbonise… whatever this was supposed to be.”

Will picks up Nico’s journal and sounds out the name. “Mellow-mac-rono. It’s a dish he learned to make while he was staying in Greece. Someone named Ms. Vallis used to make it for him, apparently. He wrote down the recipe, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Maybe you should leave the cooking to Nico, and stick to what you’re good at.” Cecil slowly takes the journal from Will’s hands and presses it shut. “And by that, I do not mean setting our apartment on fire.”

Will snorts as he pushes Cecil out of the kitchen. “Whatever, dude. Just go get your phone, looks like we’re ordering takeout tonight.”

 

Day 7

“One second!” Will can hear stomping from inside the apartment, and it’s not long before Percy pulls open the door, dressed in sweats and a washed-out tee. The guy’s got a huge smile across his face as he ushers Will inside, and introduces him to each room of their small apartment. The place isn’t exactly ritzy, but it’s cozy and it reminds Will of the small duplex he’d grown up in back in California. Will’s just about to take the chair that Percy offers him when a woman steps into the room with a bottle of wine and three glasses in hand.

“Will Solace! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She beams as she makes her way over to the two of them.

Percy pipes up from the other side of him. “Will, this is Annabeth, my fiancée.”

“Oh? Percy never mentioned you guys were engaged.”

“Well, that’s why we wanted to invite you over tonight.” Percy explains. “So we could get to know each other a bit better. Share a few drinks, make some new friends, and all that jazz.”

“Well, then.” A sense of déjà vu hits Will. “Let’s get pouring.”

\--

Warmth spreads through his stomach as Will takes another sip of his wine. They’ve been talking for hours now, sharing stories from their past and making promises about their future. By the time they’re through their second bottle of wine, the alcohol is taking a toll on Will’s inhibitions, and when Nico’s name inevitably comes us in a story from Percy’s past, Will can’t help but chime in.

“Did you know he dedicated a tattoo to you?” He says all too cheerily.

“Wait, really?” Percy seems confused. “A tattoo?”

“Yup.” Will rolls up his right sleeve as he explains. “I was reading about it in his journal, says he got it so he’d never forget what you meant to him.”

Percy leans in close to examine Will’s arm, who twists around to provide a better view, and sure enough, just below Bianca’s compass is the silhouette of a trident raised in victory.

“He never actually explained where the trident came from, though.” Will goes on.

“It’s…” Percy’s strangely hesitant to respond. “It’s the logo for the team we swam for in high school.”

Will can’t help but laugh, a certain passage he’d read a week ago flitting through his mind.

Percy seems entirely taken back by his reaction. “You’re not mad?”

Will blinks. “No, why would I be?”

“I mean, because of how Nico and I… we, uh…” Percy fumbles. “You know…”

“What Percy is trying to say.” Annabeth steps in to rescue him. “Is that he’s concerned that you might think it selfish of Nico to get a tattoo for someone else he fell in love with, knowing it would show up on his soulmate.”

Will considers this for a moment before confessing. “I never really thought of it like that. But… that’s not really how I see it. I’m covered in all sorts of tattoos that represent things from his past, but it’s only because he wants to remember them, honour them even, not because he’s still clinging to them.”

At first, Percy seems hesitant to accept Will’s explanation, but as he bites at his lip in thought, Will thinks he catches a glimpse of the kid Nico had fallen for. Bashful and worrying, but also kind-hearted and brave.

He just can’t find it in himself to be mad at the guy, so he lets him have the truth. “He loved you, Percy. He truly did. But you broke his heart that day he came to you and you turned him away. He may know that he will never have you, but he also thinks he can never have anyone.”

“Will, I’m so sorry.” Percy looks wrecked.

“It’s not your fault.” Will consoles him. “I’m not looking to blame anyone for what happened to Nico in the past. I can’t change any of that, but what I can do is now is try my hardest to find out where he’s gone.”

“And we’ll do anything we can to help you with that, won’t we Percy?” Annabeth chips in.

“Yeah, of course.” Percy frown turns into a weak smile. “Anything to help a friend.”

 

Day 10

A week and three days into his promise, Will reads about how for a couple months, Nico helped out on a farm in sleepy Portugal backwater. He chuckles as Nico complains about the early hours and the endless days spent in the sun. He winces as Nico describes his first attempts at learning to waltz with the pastor’s daughter at the local dance. And he downright cries as Nico laments the loss of one of the farm’s cats. He practically lives the stories as Nico tells them, and he revels in the feeling of getting to know his soulmate just a little bit more.

 

Day 13

A loose piece of paper stuck in-between the pages of the journal marks this day’s starting point. He scans it quickly at first, but then more slowly when he realises what it is he’s seeing. He’s shocked at first to find a police report tucked into Nico’s journal, and that shock only grows into concern as he takes in the information. A charge of assault and battery, filed against someone named Lycaon. The report describes an altercation in his house involving Nico, the man, and his son. Two stab wounds. Several broken ribs. Lycaon taken into custody to await further trial. Nico transported to hospital.

Will deflates when he finishes reading the report. He hesitates to look down at his left shoulder before he slowly begins to pull the collar of his shirt down around his arm. The white scars still stand out among the sea of freckles on his tan skin. He ghosts his fingers over them and thinks back to the day he’d woken up with them engraved into his skin. He’d freaked out and written to Nico right away, but he hadn’t received a reply or explanation.

So he turns his attention to where he might get some answers.

_Pallas still refuses to visit me. Says he’s afraid his father will find out somehow. Whatever. Suits me just fine. As soon as the doctor clears me, I’m packing up and putting all this stupid shit behind me. Pallas and his homophobic fucking father included._

The entry is short, but telling.

Below it sits an equal sign in stark black ink.

Much like the one that sits on his skin.


	10. Chapter 10

Day 19

“I can’t help but lose myself in his eyes as I thrust gently into his palm, my moans growing louder and harder to control. I’m straddling him now, his rock hard abs glistening under a thin layer of sweat. In the moment, even as my pleasure grows, he reaches around me and –”

“Leo.” Will sounds unimpressed.

“Hold on, we’re just getting to the best part. He reaches around me and gently eases a finger –”

“Leo.” Will plucks the journal from the Latino’s hands. “I know that’s not what it says.”

“Ah, but for a second, you were hoping.” Leo’s grin is as wide as it is insidious.

Will ignores this and turns to Calypso instead. “How do you live with this?”

“He’s actually quite charming when he’s not downright vulgar.” She answers from beside him.

“You did say you wanted my help.” Leo points out.

“I said I wanted you to translate his Spanish for me.” Will shoots back. “Not make up obscene stories about my soulmate’s love life.”

“Fine, fine.” Leo laughs as he retrieves the journal from Will’s hands and flips it open. “But just know that you’re missing out on one of the hottest love stories ever told.”

 

Day 24

As it turns out, Nico spent some time a few years ago hitchhiking down the west coast of the United States. From Seattle to San Francisco, it had taken him nearly two months to make the journey. Nico’s journal has been entirely unhelpful in providing actual dates so far, but from context he can tell that Nico made it to San Francisco around the same time that Will had left. Knowing that they’d barely missed each other all those years ago makes him think back to the person he’d been at the time.

Will was raised by his mother in a small duplex on the outskirts of the city. He never knew his father, and him having left before he was born, he’d never much cared to learn anything about him. He and his mother managed just fine on their own anyway, sure they weren’t rich or anything, but they got by. His mother’s musical talent had earned her a steady job as a musical director for the theatre house downtown, and Will chipped into expenses with the money he earned lifeguarding during the summer. All in all, he lived a comfortable life, and having saved up enough money over the years to apply for pre-med in New York, he proved himself capable there and moved himself into a cozy apartment in a good neighbourhood.

Nico on the other hand, chose to adopt a nomadic lifestyle at a young age and as he reads, Will can’t help but gawk at some of the situations he gets himself into. Sometime along his soulmate’s journey down the coast, the same name starts popping up more and more often in his updates. He doesn’t know much about Reyna, but from what Nico does share about her, she seems like the ideal companion for his voyage across the states. His fondness for the girl is apparent in his writing and Will smiles at the knowledge that his soulmate wasn’t always alone in his journeys.

After he’s put the journal down for the night, he’s still not quite sure what the sword and torch tattoo on his ankle signifies, but at least now he knows who it stands for.

 

Day 29

Nearly a month into his promise, he wakes up with a nasty red burn mark on the side of his hand. It doesn’t look too serious, but it serves as a reminder that Nico is out there somewhere, and that Will is going to find him.

 

Day 34

Inspired by Nico’s month long stay in a cabin lodged deep in the Quebec wilderness, Will clears his weekend schedule and invites Cecil and Lou Ellen to go camping with him. He’s always loved the art that takes up the entire upper half of his left arm, the half sleeve depicting a sleepy forest under a full moon, and it’s been years since he’s been able to experience the real thing for himself.

So, standing at the edge of a dark lake under the soft light of the stars, he can’t help but close his eyes and let out a relaxed sigh. He’s so lost in the moment that he doesn’t notice Lou Ellen make her way up beside him nor what she says next.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Will has to ask.

“She said, ‘it’s such a beautiful night for skinny dipping!’” Comes a loud voice from behind them.

It’s hard to see in the dim light, but Will knows Lou Ellen well enough to know that she rolls her eyes in response. “Only the first half of that sentence is true.”

“Ah, but you were totally thinking the second half of it.” Cecil asserts as he makes his way towards the two of them. “I merely vocalised it.”

“You’re crazy.” Will mutters. “It’s like sixty degrees out.”

“Which is a totally reasonable temperature to go swimming for anyone not born into the blazing hot hell that is California’s summers.” Cecil shoots back.

Will quirks an eyebrow at Cecil before slowing turning his questioning gaze towards Lou Ellen, who merely shrugs. “I’m down. It’s not like I have to worry about you gawking, and Cecil’s –”

“Already naked.” Will points out, and the two of them share a laugh as they strip out of their clothes and sprint after Cecil into the water.

\--

“You’re looking good, Will.” Lou Ellen comments as she pokes at his abs while he’s busy toweling his hair dry. “You been working out?”

“Sure have.” Will preens  at the compliment. “I’ve been going to the gym most days for about a month now. What about you? We hardly get to see each other ever since you moved out. How are you and Victoria doing?”

“We’re doing great!” Lou Ellen chirps. “We’ve both been really busy with work lately, but we try to spend the little free time we do have together. I’m glad you invited me here this weekend though, it’s nice to finally be able to catch up with my original besties.”

“Likewise, though I’m not sure I’d even have enough time tonight to catch you up on everything that’s happened the me over the past few months.” Will confesses as he pulls on a shirt and plops down beside Lou Ellen. “It’s been kind of a wild ride.”

“Soulmates, am I right?” Cecil interjects as he makes his way towards them, balancing three bowls of beans in his hands. They thank him for the food as he settles down beside the two of them.

Hours pass and crickets chirp around them as Will fills Lou Ellen in on Nico’s visit and the promise he’d made about the journal, and he can’t help but feel grateful for having two of the best friends he could ask for to share the night with.

 

Day 39

“What the heck is this?” Will can’t help but voice his confusion as he flips through several sheets of paper filled with charts and tables that make absolutely no sense to him.

“What the heck is what?” Austin asks as he pulls the pages towards him across the table.

The two of them are on their shared fifteen minute lunch break, and Will has Nico’s journal laid out before him, figuring he might as well get some reading done while he has the time.

Austin’s eyes scan the pages in front of him for a moment before he reaches a conclusion. “These look like some pretty hardcore spreadsheet calculations for an optimal Mythomagic deck, though the card choices are a bit dated at this point.”

“Uh… what?” Will says.

“Like, you know, Mythomagic, the card game.”

“I’ve heard of it.” Will points out. “But, why would he be keeping track of all that in his journal?”

“It looks like he earned himself a spot in the internationals.” Austin says as he twists the journal back around towards Will and taps at a date circled among the charts. “They hold a huge tournament every year where the best of the best compete for fame and fortune.”

“And Nico played in one of these?” Will sounds unconvinced.

“If he did, I can look him up.” Austin explains as he pulls out his phone. “What did you say his full name was?”

“Nico di Angelo.” Will says as his co-worker starts tapping away at the screen.

After a moment, Austin’s jaw drops in shock and he shoves his phone into Will’s face. “Dude! Your friend placed second a couple of years ago! Do you know how big a deal that is? We’re talking about world standings here! How do you know this guy?”

“He’s uh… he’s my soulmate.”

“No way! How have you not told me this before?” Austin gushes at the news. “You have to introduce me to him sometime. I’d love to be able to pick his brain about some of the newer release decks.”

“Sure, I’ll bring him around sometime.” Will promises him. “Sometime soon.”

 

Day 44

“I knew it!” Will exclaims from his spot on the couch where no one can actually hear him due to the fact that he’s alone in the apartment. All the same, he pats himself on the back for correctly guessing that Nico was actually in a punk rock band at one point in his life. Specifically, a three man band called _Laveulge,_ for whom Nico sang and played guitar in exchange for a couch to sleep on during his stay in Paris.

Will reads about the music they played at small venues around the city, never more than a hundred people in one place, and often only a couple dozen of them in some dive bar or club.

He tries to imagine what it would be like to be part of the crowd, cheering on his soulmate as he dances around the stage with his guitar and his tattoos, looking like the living embodiment of punk rock.

He adjusts his pants before lifting his leg to get a better view of the tattoo on the back of his right calf. A used-looking Fender Telecaster is inked there, done up in sharp colours that are in sharp contrast against even his tanned skin. A tattered banner loops around the guitar with the words _nous_ _saignons pour que vous ne deviez pas_ written along it. A quick trip to Google Translate when it had first shown up on his skin had told him it what it meant. _We bleed so that you don’t have to._

Curiosity strikes Will and he makes his way into his bedroom and sits down at his computer to type ‘laveulge’ into Google. He scrolls down and clicks on the first link that looks promising, once again thanking Google’s translation services as he navigates his way around the site. Soon enough, he has their album onto a USB and the USB into the slot of their sound system.

Will cranks the music up as a quick bass line begins to fill his apartment and a familiar voice meets his ears. The sound is like nothing he’s ever heard before, it’s tinny and rough, but also fast and reckless, and Will can’t help but dance along. He has no idea what it is Nico’s saying but just hearing his voice is enough to put a smile on his face as he loses himself to the music.

 

Day 49

Seven weeks into reading and Will is getting nervous. It’s nearly September and he’s no farther along in finding out where Nico went than when he started. He’s tried looking up Reyna, Frank, Hazel, all the people that he’s read about in his soulmate’s journal, but it’s not like the guy wrote down their phone numbers or anything else that could help. Will sighs as he binds the thing shut for the day and turns his attention towards the person beside him.

“Still no luck?” Annabeth closes her laptop when she notices his expression.

“Nothing I can use.” He replies. “He must keep all of his friends’ contact information on his phone. It’s either that or he just memorises what’s important.”

“And you haven’t tried calling him lately?”

“Not really.” Will admits. “I tried a few weeks ago, but he didn’t answer.”

Annabeth sighs and tucks her hair behind her ears. “I had that problem too. He hasn’t returned a single one of my calls since he ran away five years ago.”

Will pulls his legs up under him onto the couch so he can sit fully facing the blonde. “You’ve tried calling him in the past?”

“Of course. He was my friend too. When his sister died and he ran away, I was a wreck. I spent weeks blaming myself for not being able to stop him. I was sure it was my fault.” Annabeth is staring down at her hands now, looking as if she’s considering something. “I’m not sure if Nico told you this, but when Percy turned him down and he ran out, I went straight after him.”

“No, he didn’t.” Will mumbles

“Well, when I caught up to him outside and tried to convince him to talk to us about what he was going through, he refused to listen. I told him that we’d all lost a friend in Bianca, but that we could deal with it together, if he’d just come back home and join us.” Tears begin prickling at her eyes as she relays her story. “That obviously wasn’t the right thing to say, because he just started yelling at me. About how I knew nothing about loss and how I’d always had everything handed to me in life, Percy included. I’d never seen that side of Nico before. We were friends before, but now… I don’t know.”

They sit in silence for a long time before eventually Will speaks up. “He doesn’t blame you. He doesn’t blame Percy either. He doesn’t even blame himself anymore, I don’t think. He’s no longer the kid who ran away five years ago because he was angry at the world. From what I can tell reading his journal, he’s actually happy with himself most of the time, despite the shit that’s happened to him. I think that maybe the reason he’s not answering our calls, the reason he hasn’t come home is because running is all he’s ever known, and it’s worked for him so far, so why change anything? I mean, there’s no reason to give up on what you love when it’s still making you happy.”

“So you’re saying it’s sort of a habit he just can’t seem to kick.” Annabeth’s words hit home.

“Exactly.” Will says. “I used to think him ignoring his soulmate all his life was just him being selfish, but maybe that was just a coping mechanism he stuck with because it worked a little too well.”

“So all you need to do is show him that running isn’t the only option.”

“Except, I can’t do that unless I find out where he is.” Will points out.

“Well, one step at a time.” Annabeth’s almost smiling now.

“You’re right.” Will laughs despite himself. “How are you so right?”

She returns his laugh. “It’s sort of my thing.”

A thought pops into Will’s head and is out his mouth before he can realise how good of an idea it is. “I want you to read the journal when I’m done with it.”

It sort of came out of nowhere, and the surprise is apparent on Annabeth’s face. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Will’s response is firm. “I want you to read about all the good things he’s experienced in his life since he left, I want you to see that he’s happy, and I want you to see that he doesn’t blame you for what happened in the past. It may not be the heart to heart you wanted, but you deserve that much from him. Besides, you’re much smarter than I am, so you might catch something I missed, something that we can use to find him.”

“Will…” Annabeth is back to nearly crying again, and Will soon finds himself in her arms as she leaps across the couch and hugs him until he can no longer breathe.

 

Day 54

Will is on the couch in his own living room reading about how his soulmate spent weeks trying to play a perfect Pacman game at some hotel in Las Vegas, when he hears a key turn in the lock to the apartment and glances over to see the door open and Nico standing in the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journal entry not included in this chapter: That one time Nico fell off a cliff and had to hang there for days on end.


	11. Chapter 11

Nico di Angelo is standing just outside the door to his apartment and Will is at a loss for what to say. So he just nods when Nico asks if it’s okay for him to come in, shuts the door behind him, and takes a seat beside him on the couch.

They sit in silence for a while, a chasm of silence between them, before Nico eventually nods towards the pages in his soulmate’s hands. “You’re reading my journal?”

“Yeah.” Will’s throat is dry.

“Where am I?”

“The Lotus Hotel.” Will manages. “Trying to get the high score on every single arcade cabinet.”

Nico laughs, and it’s been forever since Will’s heard such a beautiful sound. “Right, it felt like it took years, but I got the job done eventually. Gods, you could probably fill a bathtub with all the quarters I spent on those machines.”

Will is unsure of how to respond to this.

“I got this tattoo done in commemoration for my achievement.” Nico finally says as reaches out to trail his fingers across the lotus flower inked into his soulmate’s arm.

“Nico.” Will’s voice is quiet as his eyes follow the touch. “What are you doing here?”

It takes a moment for Nico to respond, his fingers still resting on Will's skin. “I came back because I want to try to fix things between us.”

Will registers the promising news, but his thoughts are still stuck on the fact that Nico is, against all odds, sitting right here in front of him. “Where were you the past three months?”

“I was with my sister in San Francisco.” Nico is looking everywhere but at him.

“Hazel?” Will thinks back to the journal.

“Yeah, I’ve been staying with her and her boyfriend for a while.”

“But, now you’re here?”

“But, now I’m here.”

“And you’re staying?”

“I want to fix things between us.” Nico says again. “It wasn’t fair of me to leave like I did.”

“So… you’re staying?”

“This conversation is starting to sound familiar.” Nico laughs.

“Sorry.” Will can’t help but laugh too. “It’s just that I had this whole plan figured out where I was going track you down and find you myself.”

“And what were you going to do when you found me?” Nico has to ask.

Will shrugs. “I was going to try and get you back.”

“Will…” Nico’s voice is quiet when he finally tears his gaze away from the floor and levels it on his soulmate. “I don’t know if I’m even cut out for love.”

The look he’s giving Will rends his heart and he reaches out to take Nico’s hand in his own. “You never know unless you try, right? Just promise me you won’t leave until you find out.”

Nico’s eyes search Will’s for a long moment, and the entire room seems to be holding its breath in anticipation when finally croaks out an answer. “Okay, Will. I promise.”

\--

Will wasn’t prepared for Nico’s return. Obviously. But it means that when Nico pushes himself off the couch to go and sleep off his jet lag, he realises that his bed is no longer where he left it.

“Oh right.” Will says when he notices his confusion. “We sold our extra mattress a few weeks after you left. We, uh, didn’t think you’d need it anymore.”

 “It’s fine.” Nico waves it off. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“No, it’s okay.” Will steps in front of him. “You had a long flight, you can sleep in my room.”

“I’m not  taking your bed from you, Will.” Nico rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

“Nico, that thing is hardly fit for sitting, let alone sleeping.” Will argues.

“Then what do you suggest?”

Will wrinkles his nose before answering. “We can share my bed.”

Nico’s mouth bends into the slightest frown at his words. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

Will shrugs. “I don’t have work tomorrow, so it’s not like I need to worry about your snoring keeping me up or anything.”

“That’s not really what I –”

“I know.” Will cuts him off. “But we can talk about it in the morning, okay?”

\--

The first thing Will notices when he wakes up is that Nico is missing from his bed. He’s saved from an immediate heart attack when the second thing he notices is that it’s still dark outside, so maybe he’s just getting a glass of water or something. With that possibility in mind, he scrambles out of bed and pushes his way into the living room in search of his soulmate. His heart seems to be reconsidering that myocardial infarction when he doesn’t find Nico in the living room or the bathroom, but then he notices that the window above where his bed used to be is propped open. He makes his way over to the window, looks around outside, and lets out a sigh. Nico is sitting on the fire escape a storey above him, feet dangling over the edge, with a cigarette in hand, staring out into the night.

Ignoring the fact that he’s wearing nothing more than a tank top and sweats, and despite his fear of heights, he throws a foot over the sill and begins to climb his way up the stairs towards his soulmate. He’s clearly not very subtle about it, because when he reaches the landing, Nico is already watching him as he approaches and takes a seat beside him.

The two of them sit in silence for a while, Nico taking slow drags of his cigarette as they listen to the sounds of the city at night. Below them, an argument breaks between a man and a woman and a siren blares in the distance as it speeds its way towards some unknown cause. It’s so New York City, the two of them never quite alone even at four o’clock atop a building during this warm summer morning. After an eternity, the argument on the street comes to an end and a dog’s loud barking takes its place. Nico’s made his way through the entire cigarette by the time Will turns to him and speaks.

“Those things aren’t very good for you, you know.” He says without much conviction.

“I know.” His soulmate responds, flicking the used cigarette butt down into the alley below. “But, it’s sort of a nasty little habit I picked up somewhere along the road.”

Will laughs as if at an inside joke and the rich sound of his voice rings out into the night. “Well, I’d be happy to help you kick of few of your nastier habits. If you’ll let me, of course.”

“I don’t smoke much.” Nico closes his eyes and leans his head back as if to look at the sky. “Just when I want to relieve some stress.”

“That’s not really what I –”

“I know.” Nico cuts him off. “It’s morning now – technically.”

Will runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky breath. “I’m not even sure where to start.”

Nico’s eyes are still closed when he speaks. “Why don’t we start with what each of us wants? Both in life and from each other.”

“Okay.” Will says as everything he’s been thinking of over the past two months comes to a head at once. “I guess what I really want is for the both of us to be happy. Ideally, that would mean the two of us together, but if what makes you happy is travelling the world alone, I think I’d be okay with that too. I’d be content with knowing that we at least tried to work it out.”

Nico’s voice is quiet. “Would you really?”

“I would.” Will affirms. “Because it would at least mean an answer to the question I’ve been asking myself the past twenty years of my life.”

Nico bites his lips at these words and looks away in shame, but Will reaches out to nudge his chin towards him until their eyes meet.

“Nico, if had known back then, that my soulmate was as wonderful and as kind as I know you are now, I would have been fine with the fact that you were out there living your life to its fullest. Even if it was without me by your side.”

Nico raises his hand to Will's, and laces their fingers together. His voice is full of defeat when he finally speaks. “Love’s never treated me very well in the past. What I want is to find out whether or not I’m broken beyond repair.”

“Nico, you know none of that was your fault.” Will says as he shifts closer to him. “We’re soulmates, okay? I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you while you’re with me.”

“No one can promise that. Not even you, Will.” Nico chokes out.

Will considers for a moment before admitting. “You’re right, sometimes things happen that are out of our control, but that doesn’t mean that you have to deal with the consequences of them alone. If you let me, I’ll be there to support you. We’ll pull through it together.”

Will waits patiently as Nico considers  his answer in silence. The dog’s barking stops abruptly and Will hears Nico suck in a breath before he says. “I can’t promise you that it’ll work out, but I’ll try to give love another shot. I’ve been running from it for years, but I think I’m finally ready.”

Will hums his approval before nudging Nico in the shoulder. “Let’s see what this whole soulmate thing is about then, yeah?”

\--

The first thing Will notices as he wakes up for the second time this morning is that Nico is still in his bed, head tucked into the curve of Will’s neck and their feet tangled together under the sheets. He takes a moment to revel in the feeling of his soulmate’s bare skin against his when a familiar smell hits his nose and he begins to rouse his soulmate by rubbing slow circles into his back with his palm.

“Morning, sunshine.” Will coos as his soulmate’s eyes slowly crack open and he has to swallow the lump that forms in his throat. “You didn’t happen to get a tattoo last night before you came here, did you?”

“Maybe.” Nico laughs innocently as he presses in close to Will’s shoulder.

Will can’t hide the smile playing at his face. “What is it this time?”

“I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself.” Nico laughs.

Will takes action as he untangles their legs and throws one over Nico before pushing him onto his back so he’s straddling him from above. Nico looks up at him through half lidded eyes as Will’s eyes graze over his uncovered skin, taking in the beauty of the tattoos that he can see. “Looks like you’ve got it hidden pretty well.”

“Maybe you need to look a bit harder.” Nico teases from below as props himself up on his elbows. Will is quick to yank Nico up and pull his t-shirt over his head before wrestling him back into their previous position. His eyes catch on the small patch of ink at his hip, under saran wrap, that certainly wasn’t there last time he’d seen him. The abstract sun, no bigger than his palm, stands out against Nico’s olive skin with its vibrant yellows and its sharp outlining. Will looks up to Nico for permission before gently peeling away the film and grabbing a tissue from his nightstand to wipe away the leftover blood and ink.

“It’s beautiful.” Will whispers reverently as his ghosts his fingers around the cleaned tattoo, careful not to disturb it.

“Of course it is.” Nico says as he pushes himself up into a seated position. “It’s supposed to remind me of you.”

Will’s voice catches in his throat at the words, so he merely nods as Nico leans in to pull his tank top over his head and begins to trail his fingers down Will’s bare chest. He spends some time tracing the tattoos that decorate his skin before replacing the feather-light touch of his hands with the caress of his lips. Will closes his eyes as Nico slowly kisses his way down his torso and has to bite back a moan when Nico licks a damp strip over the sun tattooed into his hip.

When Will opens his eyes, Nico is grinning up at him with a pleased look on his face, and Will has to pull him up by the arms to kiss him proper. He only pecks his soulmate playfully at first, but the kiss goes from sweet to molten in a matter of seconds. There’s a hungry, forceful energy to the way Nico kisses and Will has trouble pulling away, even as he’s running out of breath. It’s not a moment after Will breaks away for air that Nico is kissing him again, his hands wrapping around the back of Will’s neck to pull him close.

Everything about Nico is warm to the touch, from the slide of his tongue along his own, to the look he gives him as he slides a hand down to slip out of his boxers before ridding Will of his sweats. Nico pulls out of their kiss and takes a moment to admire the sight before him before sliding down between his legs and taking Will into his mouth.

It’s here among the twisting of sheets with Will panting out Nico’s name, that the two of them forget the troubles of the past and lay themselves bare to the possibilities of the future.

\--

“Hey, Will. Nico.” Cecil greets them as he pushes his way out of his bedroom at eleven o’clock and plops himself down on the couch, without so much as a glance at the pair of them in the kitchen.

“Morning, Cecil.” Nico shoots back from his spot in front of the stove. “I’m making omelettes, do you want one?”

“I could never turn down one of your eggy creations.” Cecil assures him.

Will observes the entire exchange incredulously. “You don’t seem very surprised to see Nico, Cecil.”

“And you don’t seem to understand the repercussions of thin walls, yet here we are…”

Nico lets out a loud snort even as Will’s face turns red. Cecil merely laughs and the three of them chat away the morning to the sound of eggs sizzling and the prospect of more carefree days to come.


End file.
